20 DADA Profs that Voldy is Glad They Never Hired
by Luna del Cielo
Summary: 20 DADA profs that Voldy is glad Hogwarts never hired…and a few he's glad they did.
1. Professor Tyler Durden

**Title:** DADA Profs that Voldy is Glad They Never Hired  
**Author: **Luna (aka Luna_del_Cielo on lj)  
**Fandom: **Multi-verse (_Note: FFnet does not have a multi-verse category so this story has been placed soley in 'HP'.)_  
**Rating: **M. Expect cursing, character death & dismemberment, distubing (although hilarious!) mental images, and all sorts of madness. But _probably_ not all at once.  
**Summary: **20 DADA profs that Voldy is glad Hogwarts never hired…and a few he's glad they did.  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the shows/movies/comics whose characters I am using. In fact, right here and now I am saying that I do not own the following people:

_T__The 20 DADA Profs that Voldy is Glad They Never Hired:_  
1. Tyler Durden (Fight Club)  
2. Tony Soprano (The Sopranos)  
3. Dexter (Dexter)  
4. The Joker (The Dark Knight)  
5. Emma (Jane Austen's Emma)  
6. Sherlock Holmes (2009 movie version)  
7. Anita Blake (Anita Blake)  
8. Professor Brock Samson (Venture Brothers)  
9. Red Foreman (That 70s Show)  
10. Criss Angel (Mindfreak)  
11. Connor and Murphy MacManus (Boondock Saints)

_Future chapters will possibly include:_  
Chuck Norris (If you don't know him he will roundhouse kick you)  
Darth Vader (Star Wars)  
Conan O'Brien (Conan O'Brien show)  
Stabler (Law & Order: SVU)  
Stewie Griffin (Family Guy)  
Eric Cartman (South Park)  
Uncle Iroh (Avatar: The Last Airbender)  
Titus Pullo (Rome)  
Jules Cobb (Cougar Town)  
Frodo Baggins (The Lord of the Rings)  
Coyote (Looney Tunes)  
King Leonidas (300)  
James Bond (007)

Note: I will be using all of these characters…though perhaps not in this order. Should be fun ;) Also, I do take suggestions and will try to incorporate them as long as I'm familiar with the material

* * *

It was Harry Potter's sixth year at Hogwarts and he, like the rest of his classmates, was anxiously waiting for their newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to enter the classroom. Whoever this new professor was they had missed the Feast the previous day so no one knew who he was yet.

"I saw him in the hallway – oh he's hot!" giggled Lavender Brown.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "_Honestly_, you cannot think that a _professor_ is attractive. That's very unbecoming," she sniffed.

The door banged open and a lean, muscled man with tan features strode into the room. He made his way to the teacher's desk and hopped onto it casually. Hermione let out a whimper and sighed, along with every other Gryffindor and Slytherin female, as he ran a hand through his tousled blonde hair. Lighting a cigarette and taking a quick inhale of smoke, he spoke.

"So. I'm Professor-" he snorted "-Durden. Dumbles heard about me from America and thought I'd be a good fit so I could toughen you kids up for this Dark Lord that's trying to fuck shit up."

Several students gasped and the boys all shared looks of interest at this new professor.

"So yeah. Welcome to Defense Against Damn Assholes, kiddies. Time to learn how to protect yourselves." Then he gave them a slow smile, as if he were relishing the moment.

"Professor?" Hermione asked eagerly with blushed cheeks that indicated she agreed with Lavender's crass announcement from earlier. "What books will we need? There wasn't one on the assignment list."

Professor Durden began laughing. "Books are for punk ass bitches. We don't need no books in here."

A cheer went through the room from everyone – except Hermione whose cheeks were now flushed with anger.

"Now, first rule about DADA is: You do not talk about DADA."

"Why?" Hermione immediately asked.

"Rule number two," the professor went on, ignoring her. "You DO NOT talk about DADA!"

Everyone nodded at the intensity in his voice.

"Good. Now, everyone get up. We're gonna fight."

"Fight?" Draco Malfoy inquired snootily. "You mean _duel_, don't you?"

"Duel?" Professor Durden scoffed. "What kind of pussy word is that. No, we're gonna fight. And you're first, blondie."

Draco's shoulders squared and he gave the professor a haughty look. "Alright then. Who? Potter, perhaps?" he sneered.

The professor shrugged. "Potter, step on up!"

"What?" Harry asked in surprise. Then he saw the glint of amusement in Draco's eye and he felt his stomach tighten in anger. "Alright then," he muttered with a mocking smile.

Professor Durden was about to issue commands when he eyed Draco's wand. "What's that stick for?"

"Stick! It's a wand. What sort of teacher _are_ you?" Draco asked scornfully. "I'll need this to duel."

"Hells no, kid. Third rule of DADA: Fight without shirts, shoes, and wands – got it? You ain't gonna use any magic. Magic can't always save you. What if your wand broke in a fight?"

"Well…no one would break another wizard's wand. That's just barbaric – even more so than fighting with your fists!" Draco affirmed.

The professor snorted and then snapped Draco's wand in two. "There. Now fight!"

"What the—how could you?" Draco squealed.

Harry just started laughing.

Draco turned murderous eyes towards Harry. "Shut your filthy mouth, Potter!" he shouted before launching himself at the other boy. Soon they were brawling, with a great deal of encouragement from their House members and new professor.

And that was just day one.

Four months later Harry Potter, Professor Durden, and his entire DADA class arrived at the secret lair of Lord Voldemort. Each sixteen-year old walked into the house bearing bruises of varying colors and sinister smiles. The Death Eaters saw them and trembled – immediately they called for their master.

"Lord Voldemort! Harry Potter is here, my Lord!"

"Send him in," Lord Voldemort snickered. How foolish of the Potter boy to enter his own home!

Harry Potter walked in wearing a red leather jacket (a gift from the professor) and a pissed off look. "Tommy boy. How've you been?"

"How dare you call me that!" Voldemort hissed. "I ought to kill you here and now!" he screamed as he whipped out his wand.

Professor Durden jumped out of his hiding place and snatched the wand away, and then broke it in two. "HEY! Rules of DADA: No shirts, shoes, or wands, bitch!"

Harry Potter kicked off his shoes, threw off his shirt, and cracked his knuckles. "Now Tommy, I want you to hit me as hard as you can."

For perhaps the first time in his life, Lord Voldemort felt fear.

And then he felt pain.

* * *

A/N:

What do ya think? I like this new series of mine – I needed to write something silly and not serious or with emotions and stuff. Just death and fighting and cursing and madness ;)

Professor Durden= Tyler Durden, the character played by Brad Pitt in Fight Club. (.com/search?source=ig&hl=en&rlz=&q=tyler+durden&aq=0&oq=tyler+dur)

Also: Suggestions are welcome. As are reviews! ;D


	2. Professor Tony Soprano

Professor Tony Soprano (The Sopranos)

**A/N:**

All stories (unless otherwise noted) will take place at the beginning of Harry's 6th year. All stories are separate from each other and do not coexist in Harry's world.

* * *

It was Harry Potter's sixth year at Hogwarts and he, like the rest of his classmates, was anxiously waiting for their newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to enter the classroom. Whoever this new professor was they had missed the Feast the previous day so no one knew who he was yet.

The door slammed open and heavy footsteps echoed through the classroom. Every head turned towards the rotund, male figure in silence. He wore light khakis and a button-up short-sleeved shirt with a plaid pattern. He had a halo of thin black hair but was mostly bald and smoking a cigar. Once he arrived at his desk he set his feet up and leaned back in his chair.

"Hey there, I'm Professor Soprano. How're you kids doing today?" he smiled genially.

"Good," the class chorused in unsure tones.

"Good, good," he smiled as he took another puff of his cigar.

"Great," Hermione rolled her eyes. "Looks like another Lockhart," she muttered.

"Excuse me," Professor Soprano asked as he sat up in his chair. "Were you just talkin' while I was talkin'?" His beady eyes were fixed on Hermione and his mouth was set in a stern line. An atmosphere of tension enveloped the class.

"Uh, n-no Professor," Hermione quickly replied.

"Good, that's good," he smiled kindly again but his eyes remained dark and dangerous. "'Cause people who talk while I'm," he pointed dramatically at his chest, "talkin' tend to have 'accidents', ya understand?"

Harry glanced worriedly at his paling friend. "Y-yes, professor."

"Alright then," he nodded. Standing up he began gesturing with hands. "Now I'm from Jersey. We do things a certain way. For one, we aren't pussies when it comes to fighting, unlike you tea-drinkin' bastards. I hear ya got this Big Boss 'round these here parts that's killed a bunch from your gang, am I right?"

"Yeah," Harry answered out loud (everyone else was too afraid to talk at that point).

Professor Soprano gave him an assessing look. "You're Harry Potter, right? The Capo of this family?" he asked as he gestured around the room.

"Er…the what?"

"You know," Professor Soprano waved his arms around. "The Capo, the Captain. I hear stories 'bout you, kid," he grinned. "Heard you're the one tryin' to ice that Voldemort punk."

"Um…yeah, we're supposed to kill each other. 'Neither can live while the other survives' kind of deal."

"So what's stoppin' yous from burning him?" Professor Soprano inquired. "I mean, the guy sounds like a punk...well, a rather efficient punk I 'spose, sending his enforcers out and making sure to do the right kind of cleanin'," he considered. "But besides that, what's stoppin' yous?"

"Maybe because he's a powerful wizard and I'm just sixteen!" Harry huffed angrily. Who was this guy to chastise him for not killing Voldemort? It wasn't like he hadn't _tried_. Jeez!"

"Whoa there goomba, I was just makin' words. I mean, if this guy's so hard to kill then why even try?"

"HUH?" the entire class asked.

Professor took another drag of his cigar. "I think we just need to make him an offer he can't refuse."

* * *

Mob Boss Harry Potter of the Hogwarts Famigilia waited patiently in the Great Hall at Hogwarts one year later. His _Consigliere_, Hermione Granger, stood at attention at the hall's entrance. As the _Consigliere_ Hermione served as his counselor and also the only means of communication his underlings had with him. It was the perfect post for her intellect and strength of character.

To his left sat his Captain, Ron Weasley. Ron was by far the best captain a _don_ could have. He was an Enforcer in his own right – his hulking frame had been responsible for many beat downs of insubordinate made men and associates, as well as Death Eaters. But he was also smart and strategic – he knew just how to time their heists around the latest shipments so they could fence stolen goods, as well as dealing with attacks by the Death Eater Famiglia.

His Godfather Sirius was sorely missed but a new godfather had taken his place – Professor Tony Soprano. The professor was the godfather to their entire operation and out of respect Harry had also asked him to be present on this day. He sat to Harry's right and was already smoking a celebratory cigar.

A sleek blond haired figure rushed into the room. "Boss," Draco Malfoy nodded out of respect. "He's here. Should I send him in?"

Harry looked towards his _Consigliere_. He was pleased with the efforts of his _Messaggero_ for using his family connections to establish communication with Voldemort but that didn't mean the boy deserved to be spoken to by the boss himself.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Godfather Soprano smirk.

"Yes, thank you _Messaggero_," Hermione replied.

Minutes later Lord Voldemort stalked in with his Captain Bellatrix Lestrange and _Consigliere_ Lucius Malfoy.

Harry stood and pasted a genial smile on his face. "Boss Voldemort. I am pleased you agreed to this sit down. Come, sit. Have a drink – it is the finest unicorn blood on the planet, imported from Spain."

"Potter," Voldemort said stiffly as he sat down and his wiseguys followed suit.

Ron slammed his fists down on the table. "That's _Boss_ Potter, to you! Show some goddamn respect!"

Voldemort hissed and Harry gently laid an arm on his loyal captain. "That's alright, Ron. We're all honorable men here."

"I am a woman," Bellatrix growled.

Godfather Soprano licked his lips as he gave her a salacious leer. "I believe it baby. I've always had a thing for crazy foreign chicks. Maybe you and me should hook up after this?" he grinned.

Bellatrix threw a deadly glare in his direction but said nothing.

"What is this about, Potter? I want to kill you, you idiot, not chat you up," Voldemort stated angrily. "It's already odd enough that you've taken over Hogwarts, iced that old fool Dumbledore—"

"—Hey, I found out the old man was using me for his own ends. 'Sides, if I wanted to move up into the administration I had to send him out for a little swim with the fishes."

Voldemort just stared at the cold and calculating face of Harry Potter before he remembered to finish his thoughts. "_And_ are using this school as your front for your business. I mean, you just aren't following the _rules_. We are supposed to have a bloody battle to the death, after all!"

Harry's smile was genuine this time. "Trust me, Tom. I'd love to whack you. Problem is, such an act isn't without consequences. No," he said as he leaned back. "This whole 'wizarding world in fear' thing is actually rather helpful for business."

Lucius nodded in understanding but the other two were confused. "What? But I want to KILL YOU!"

Harry waved his hands in the air. "No, you only think so. That prophecy? Neither can live while the other survives'? Rubbish."

After a moment of silence Harry elaborated. "Look at us," he gestured with a finger. "You're alive and I'm alive right this second and nothing's bad has happened. So how about we squash our beef? I'll keep Britain, on account of you whacking my parents and tryin' to whack me, and you get the Middle East. You'll fit right in with the terrorists, plus there's a ton of opium and oil to control." Harry grinned. "Some sizeable profits, I am told."

"So…I don't get to kill you?"

"Well, you can try," Harry shrugged. "But the Hogwarts Familigia is pretty damn well trained and I've established, through my godfather's help, contacts in both America and Italy. Fuck with me and you're gonna get fucked in the ass, hard."

Voldemort coughed in surprise at Harry's language while Godfather Soprano just looked very pleased with himself.

"Well…alright then. I would like to _crucio_ that Bin Laden man. I mean," Voldemort rolled his glowing red eyes, "not even _I_ am that evil."

"Good, then it's a deal?" Harry asked as he stuck his hand out.

"It's a deal, Potter…er, Boss Potter," he amended after a frightening look from Ron.

"Good doing business with you. Let's celebrate." Harry clapped his hands and the house elves down below filled their plates with food and their glasses with wine and liquor. Strip poles rose from the floor and several women popped into existence and began performing to the music of the Weird Sisters (who, ahem, were encouraged to live at Hogwarts and perform whenever the boss needed them). A glowing neon sign that said 'Bada Bing' materialized out of thin air next to a disco ball.

Members of both Famiglias entered the hall and began celebrating. Boss Harry was getting lap dances alongside Ron and Godfather Soprano while Lucius Malfoy and other men were flocking to Hermione – she was very hot now that she had shorn her locks into a pixie cut and was one of the most powerful women in the criminal underworld after all. Draco Malfoy, a declared _fanook_, was dressing in drag for fun and also utilizing the stripper pole (to the excitement of Pansy Parkinson, who was kinky like that). Their primary enforcer, Dobby the house elf, could be seen slapping some stripper ass and waving gold Galleons about (which later similar experiences resulted in bringing about paper money to the wizarding world).

All in all, it was a very good day for the Hogwarts Famiglia and most especially for one Harry James Potter, _Capo di tutti capi_ of Europe.

* * *

**A/N:**

Not gonna lie…this one is my favorite so far and turned out much better than I was originally intending. Now I kinda want to write a story about Harry's mafia famiglia… ;)

*_Capo di tutti capi_= the don of the most powerful family is the don of all dons.  
*_fanook_= mafia slang for homosexual.


	3. Professor Dexter Morgan

Professor Dexter Morgan (Dexter)

…_OR Harry Potter and his Magic Murder Bag_

A/N:  
Less crackariffic than the last two; dark humor abounds in this one.

* * *

"Students, please welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor – Professor Dexter Morgan!" Dumbledore declared as everyone conducted the obligatory clap.

Professor Morgan was a fairly average looking man with sandy blond hair, tanned skin announced that he came from a sunnier climate than Britain, and a very prim posture. He gazed around with seemingly blasé demeanor yet there was something about him that whispered this man paid attention to detail.

"Professor Morgan hails from Miami, Florida where he worked for the police department. He has many unusual skills when it comes to finding criminals and I believe he will be a wonderful addition to your education in researching proponents of the dark arts. Welcome, Professor Morgan!" Dumbledore sang out brightly with his twinkling eyes.

Professor Morgan merely waved with a cheery smile that carefully hid something darker and twisted within.

* * *

Harry Potter was intrigued by the American professor. His teaching style was similar to Lupin's in the sense that he actually _taught_ them things but he carried around a sense of darkness that was akin to the fake Moody. Each class was highly informative as the former blood-splatter analyst led them through the reading material point by point, carefully explaining everything to the finest detail and encouraging questions.

Hermione loved him, of course. She was one of his favorite students for her keen mind and he always answered her questions with a small smile that indicated amusement and satisfaction.

In the beginning Harry couldn't be sure if the professor liked him or not. Sometimes Professor Morgan's eyes would travel over his scar and a dark, murderous look would pass through his eyes like a spontaneous tornado of rage. But then a mask would appear and the professor would cheerfully go on with the lesson.

Yet the professor was never unkind to Harry. Other than those peculiar reactions, he was quite kind. Once he invited Harry into his office for tea and asked Harry about his own battles against the dark arts. He had been unsure if he had wanted to share but there was something so reassuring about the professor's calm demeanor that he did. Harry told him everything about Voldemort, growing up with the Dursleys, Voldemort's attacks, how he knew each member of the Death Eaters yet few were taken into custody, and finally the murder of his godfather. It surprised him how understanding the professor was and soon Harry began spending more and more time at his office.

Professor Morgan was a difficult man to understand but it was clear he abhorred dark wizards, especially those that went after children. But he was also a fairly normal guy who enjoyed taking his boat out (which was now docked at the Hogwarts Lake) and cooking (he was delighted once Harry had shown him the hidden kitchen behind the fruit painting).

After Sirius' death and Dumbledore avoiding him, it felt good to Harry to have another older male to talk to and he was quite happy with the arrival of Professor Morgan.

"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall called out in a tone much softer than her normal clipped one. "Please come to my office."

Harry glanced across the dining hall table at Hermione and Ron and shrugged. "Okay professor."

Once they were in her office she sat him down and let out a heavy sigh. "Potter as your head of house it is my sorrowful duty to inform you that your aunt and uncle have gone missing."

"What?" Harry asked with bulging eyes.

"I know, it is awful. It happened while your cousin Dudley was away at school. He is now staying with your Aunt Margo."

"Oh, she's not _my_ aunt. That's my uncle's sister, and we're not blood related," Harry was quick to correct.

"Oh. Alright then. Anyways, I'm sorry to say that the Muggle police believe your aunt and uncle are dead. I'm sorry for your loss, Potter."

Harry James Potter just looked down and nodded sorrowfully because he knew it was expected. However, on the inside he was doing the Macarena at the thought that his former abusers were finally gone. He was free!

* * *

Later that day Harry was whistling a jaunty tune as he passed by Professor Morgan's open office. "Harry, is that you?" the professor called.

"Hi Professor!" he chirped with a wide smile.

Professor Morgan leaned back in his chair and his lips formed a secretive smile. "You look rather happy for a boy with deceased guardians," he commented.

Immediately Harry's face fell. "Oh. Oops." Biting his lip he shut the door. "Professor you know how I feel about them. I mean, besides Voldemort and the Death Eaters, they're the most wicked people I know. They abused a little boy who was their nephew, turned him into their own personal house elf, and never once showed him any love – should I really pretend I'm sad?"

Professor Morgan smiled. "It is quite reasonable to be pleased – as you should be – but you do need to hide your emotions. It is against the norms of society to be happy at the death of others and will cause you to be an outcast."

"Oh," Harry muttered thoughtfully as he plopped into a chair. "I know you're right…I just hate having to fake being sad."

Something sparked in the professor's eye. "I know all too well what you mean, Harry."

They were silent for a moment before Harry decided to utter a confession that no one else had ever heard. "Sometimes…sometimes I imagined murdering them," he whispered. The professor didn't say anything and his silence emboldened Harry. "Even before I became a wizard. I used to imagine as a child how wonderful it would have been to smother them in their sleep or poison the food they made me cook. Sometimes I even…I was curious what death would be like."

Harry glanced up at Professor Morgan and saw him giving Harry an understanding look. "Go on."

"A couple times I…I killed some of Mrs. Figg's cats just to see what it felt like, what it felt like to stab something in the heart and feel its warm blood cover your hands." Harry looked up worriedly. "I mean, its not like Mrs. Figg didn't already have a million cats already!" he explained.

"I'm not here to judge you, Harry. Tell me more. Did you ever kill anything besides the cats?"

"No…sometimes I thought about it…maybe still do…I had wanted to torture and kill Bellatrix Lestrange after she killed my godfather. I even used the Cruciatus curse on her, but Voldemort's arrival prevented me from doing anything else," he complained bitterly as his lips curled into a snarl. "I just wanted to _kill_ her, to make her pay for all the innocent lives she took!"

Then he shook his head and sighed sadly. "Merlin, it's right what they say…I _am_ a freak. Professor, I'm sorry for telling you all this. Please, please don't tell anyone. I don't want them to think I'm nutters!" he asked frantically.

"Harry," Professor Morgan smiled kindly. "I think you and I have a lot more in common than you think."

"Really?"

"Really. Did you know that my adopted father was named Harry?"

"No sir."

Professor Morgan nodded and his jaw subtly tightened. "He was a great man. He understood that I was different – much in the same way you are – and he taught me how to control it. I think I could do that for you."

"Wow…what does that mean, Professor?"

"It would mean confronting that darkness inside of you and controlling it. Now, what would you say if I told you that I could help you…while getting rid of all the evil Death Eaters you've told me about – and Voldemort?"

A slow feral smile slid over Harry's face. "I would say…sign me up."

* * *

"Oh Merlin, please no!" whimpered Lucius Malfoy as he struggled under the plastic wrap that covered his naked body. "I was under the Imperius! I swear I didn't mean to attack you and your little friends in the Department of Mysteries!"

Harry Potter held Malfoy's dragon-heartstring wand in his hands and gave the crying man a calculating look, looking cold-hearted in the plastic suit that covered his clothes and the clear goggles that sat upon his head. "And I suppose you were under the Imperius after thirteen years and that's why you showed up in the cemetery the night Voldemort returned?"

Across the body Professor Morgan gave the boy a supportive nod; he was doing well.

"A-alright, alright," Lucius acquiesced. "So it wasn't the Imperius. But I've, uh, learned my lesson."

Harry calmly put his goggles on and jabbed the tip of the wand through Lucius' left eye. He smiled icily as the man let out a horrific scream in the special trailer Dexter had procured and hidden within the Forbidden Forest.

"OH MERLIN PLEASE! I HAVE A WIFE! AND A KID!"

Harry ruthlessly jabbed Lucius' other eye. "You are a man blind to the world of destruction you have helped to create, Lucy-boy," Harry spat. "Now you will be blind to the world truthfully, unable to see what parts of your body I will cut off first."

"NOOOO!" Lucius screamed as the first cut was made.

Professor Morgan just sat back and watched his student work. It was a bit more effort and a bit more bloody than he would prefer, but the Nazi-like ways of Lucius Malfoy was deserving of such treatment.

Later that night the two of them used levitation charms to take the body parts stuffed in garbage bags through the woods and to the Professor's boat. Then they took a delightful little nighttime boat trip and gave the merpeople something to ponder about.

* * *

Harry and Professor Morgan's work continued. The next to die was Bellatrix Lestrange (who 'Itty-Bitty Potter' carved into 'itty-bitty' pieces while she watched), then more and more of the Death Eaters.

The Ministry of Magic was in a state of confusion why so many prominent citizens (and sadly some ones with darker ties) were disappearing, never realizing that their 'prominent citizens' were murderers. Dumbledore was shocked and quite upset that no one was receiving due process and that a vigilante was about. Finally, Voldemort was pissed and had taken to collapsing bridges full of Muggles in fits of poor anger management.

"It's time, Harry," Professor Morgan said to him one day. "I've been tracking him and know he's staying at Malfoy Manor, in the basement. Are you ready?"

A murderous glint shone in Harry's eye. The past two dozen kills had been pure euphoria and he was dying to get his fix again. But to kill the man who had attempted to kill him, killed Cedric Diggory, and killed his parents? Oh, he could not wait.

They used Harry's invisibility cloak to sneak up on Voldemort and Professor Morgan injected him with a tranquilizer that he used on all their victims. Together they coated the room with plastic and bound Voldemort (naked and _Merlin_ that hadn't been pretty) to a long table. By the time Voldemort was awake both of them were in their murder outfits of plastic wrap and goggles.

"Where…where am I?" Voldemort rasped with blearing red eyes.

"Right were you were before, Tom. 'Cept now you're naked and tied to a table," Harry Potter informed him cheerfully.

"Hmm, sounds like college," Professor Morgan remarked in dry humor.

"Let go of me you petulant boy and foolish Muggle!" Voldemort hissed.

"Of, sure. Professor, do you have any scissors so we can cut him out?" Harry asked in a mocking tone.

"Oh geez, I must have left them in my other pair of pants. Drat."

"RELEASE ME!"

"Hmm, let me check in my Magic Murder Bag," Harry mused as he opened black bag that resembled an old doctor's bag, back when they used to go from house to house. He began pulling out various items and setting them on a metal table next to Voldemort's head. "Let's see here…I have a wrench…a bamboo chopstick…a katana sword…a miniature battle ax…a butterfly knife…one chainsaw…two wooden spoons – for playing drums on your funny bone, mind you…a matchbook…a hammer…and…nope! No scissors here!" Harry grinned crazily.

"My god Potter, what the hell is _wrong_ with you?" Voldemort screamed as he eyed the ten potential torture devices.

"How about the fact that you killed his parents and left him an orphan, you sick fuck. Now look around this room, at all these pictures of your victims," Professor Morgan pointed out the dozens of wizarding and muggle photographs. When Voldemort did not oblige the professor screamed, "Look at them!" as he slammed the hammer over Voldemort's thumb.

"Owww! Goddamn that hurts. Potter, I'm going to kill you!" Voldemort screeched.

"You and what army?" Harry smirked. "Oh yeah – we killed your army. What's it like being alone, all alone, again?"

Voldemort just let out unrecognizable noises of anger as he shook against his restraints.

"You think you are so much more powerful than Muggles, Tom Riddle," Professor Morgan said softly. "Yet all I had to do was insert a tranquilizer into your body and you passed out, just like all my other victims. Without a wand, you are nothing special."

Voldemort growled. "I am the most powerful wizard in the world!"

"Actually power is really in the eye of the beholder, isn't that what you taught me Professor?" Harry asked as he began experimentally swinging his butterfly knife above Voldemort's head.

"That's right," the professor smiled at his protégé.

"You see, your life is in my hands. That makes me powerful over you, Tommy. How does that make you feel?"

"Release me or I'll kill you!"

Harry raised an amused brow and looked at his mentor. "He really is a slow learner, isn't he, Professor?"

"Looks like you should probably give him some incentive," Professor Morgan smiled easily.

So Harry Potter did just that…and was able to use nine out of ten tools from his Magic Murder Bag before the old bastard finally died.

Weeks passed and the wizarding world was finally starting to think that maybe Voldemort and his Death Eaters really were gone for good. An impromptu party broke out during dinner in the Great Hall as students and staff alike celebrated.

Except for two people.

Noticing he wasn't at dinner, Harry found the professor packing his office up. "Professor Morgan, where are you going?"

"My job here is done, Harry. I came here because I heard the wizarding world was lawless and hosted the most evil men alive. Now that they are dead I have to go back home."

Harry nodded. He understood that the professor wasn't planning on staying forever, especially since he was a muggle and all. "But what will I do while you're gone?"

Professor Morgan gave him a quick, fatherly hug. "Follow the 'Code of Harry', my adopted father – Be sure that they deserve it and don't get caught. Okay?" Then Professor Morgan smiled. "Which should be pretty easy with that nifty invisibility cloak of yours."

Harry laughed at the comment but then his face sobered. "I'll follow the code, sir," Harry nodded. "Thank you…thank you for everything."

"You're welcome Harry," Dexter smiled.

Professor Dexter Morgan left that day…however it wasn't until their seventh year that someone found out what happened to Voldemort and his Death Eaters…

"OH MY GOD!" Draco Malfoy screamed shrilly as he looked out the Slytherin Common Room window that showed the interior of the lake.

"What is it?" Pansy Parkinson asked.

Draco just held out one shaky finger at a group of garbage bags that had begun to float around and were open, thanks to several curious merpeople. "I-I-I think that's my d-d-dad's head f-floating," he stammered before passing out.

Pansy looked out the window and saw a bloated head with missing eyes and long, pale hair being poked at by the trident of a merperson. Immediately she screamed.

The merperson just waved jauntily and smiled in amusement, baring two rows of pointy teeth.

* * *

A/N:

Magic Murder Bag is taken from the Venture Brother's 'Henry Killinger'. I just liked the name and thought it fit ;)

Dexter Morgan is from the Showtime series Dexter (and a book series) about a sociopathic serial killer who kills bad guys, especially ones who hurt kids.


	4. Professor Joker

**Professor Joker (The Dark Knight)**

It was the start of term and the Great Hall was abuzz with activity. Of course, most of the activity centered on discussing the latest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The only new person at the staff table was a man sitting in between Flitwick and Snape. He had lime green hair, white face make-up, maniacal eyes outlined heavily with black eye shadow, and blood red lips – in fact the red lipstick smeared across both of his cheeks in a mocking smile. He wore purple pants with a purple shirt and a green vest over it.

His clothing style indicated he looked like a wizard playing dress-up in Muggle clothes. His make-up, however, gave no indication as to what the hell he was thinking.

"He looks nutters!" Ron marveled as he snuck a peek at the new teacher.

"Looks more like he'd be teaching the dark arts rather than teaching defense against them," Harry added.

"Oh hush you two. We shouldn't make judgments based on his looks," Hermione chastised. "He could be a great teacher!"

On that note, Dumbledore cleared his throat and began his speech. After a while he gestured towards the newest professor. "And this is Professor Joker."

There was a slew of whispers throughout the hall at that odd name.

"Bet his class will be a laugh," Harry joked.

Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"Professor Joker is the newest professor for the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Also, he's asked to speak to you tonight. Professor?" Dumbledore stepped away from the podium and gestured towards the make-uped man.

"Hello kiddies," Professor Joker began in a sinister voice that – had he been wearing a turban – Harry totally would have checked the back of his head. "I'm very happy to be here surrounded by such shiny happy little faces," he grinned.

"Unfortunately, I don't think everyone wants me here." The professor frowned and brought out an electronic device that went "Wah-wah" in a somber sing-song voice.

Everyone began glancing around the room. What was this professor talking about?

"You see, _some_ people don't seem to think I can do magic and _therefore_ cannot teach you little kiddies. And by some people I mean a certain man in black and have I EVER SAID HOW MUCH I HATE MEN WHO WEAR ALL BLACK?" he asked in a shrill tone as he pointed at Snape.

Gaping jaws could be found on every attendee.

"I assure you, _Professor_," Snape sneered, "this is certainly not the time nor the place to discuss your credentials."

"Oh I assure _you_, Professor, after two weeks of staff training with you I only have one thing to do now," Professor Joker asked as he sauntered over towards Snape.

"Oh? And what is that?" Snape sniffed.

"I'm gonna show you a magic trick." Professor Joker pulled out a pencil and spun it on the table in front of Snape.

"I fail to see what possible purpose this could—"

But Professor Joker cut off Snape with a stream of maniacal laughter. "Now you see it, now you don't!" he shouted as he grabbed Snape's greasy hair and slammed the Potions Master's head onto the swiveling pencil.

Draco Malfoy was the first one to scream, followed closely by Hannah Abbot, and then the rest of the Great Hall.

Dumbledore sighed heavily and muttered something under his breath about remembering to "take Wayne's advice next time" followed by curses about having to find _two_ new teachers now.

McGonagall incapacitated the still-laughing Professor Joker with a spell while Flitwick quickly did a charm to rid the table of a large puddle of blood that was dripping from Snape's skull.

"Ya know," Ron commented calmly to Hermione and Harry in the midst of the chaos. "I reckon' you were right about not judging people, Hermione. After all, mate isn't nutters – finally someone was in their right mind to take that greasy git out!"

Hermione just groaned and banged her head on the table.


	5. Professor Emma Woodhouse

**Professor Emma Woodhouse (Jane Austen's 'Emma')**

A/N:

Emma Woodhouse is the main character in Jane Austen's 'Emma'. If you are not familiar with her she is a matchmaker by trade, although not a very good one :)

Less intense than previous ones but still hopefully amusing ;) This chapter goes to Luckie, who I'm afraid thinks I have disturbing new hobby with the previous murder-y chapters *heehee*

* * *

"Good morning class!" chirped Professor Emma Woodhouse cheerfully. It was their second month of classes and everyone had gotten used to her pep but judgments about her teaching were divided.

Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown loved her. They thought she was beautiful, well-dressed (even if she did always wear nineteenth century dresses), and a lovely person.

Hermione Granger hated her. She was worse than their old DADA professor Lockhart with her careless ways and lack of knowledge about the Dark Arts.

Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy, and most of the other boys loved her because she was hot.

And Harry Potter liked her but thought she was odd. At this stage in his life he really wanted to learn how to defeat Voldemort but she was not providing him with that knowledge (Merlin, couldn't Dumbledore hire someone competent for a change!). However she was really nice…although her focus on their love lives was rather intrusive.

"So tell me, who is excited for the Hogsmeade trip this weekend?" she asked slyly with twinkling eyes.

Parvati and Lavender began giggling. Hermione let out a frustrated sigh as she sank into her seat.

"I would be if Snape hadn't given me a detention this morning," Harry griped. He didn't like to complain but he *really* wanted to go to Hogsmeade and figured that Professor Woodhouse was likely his only chance at rescuing him.

"What?" she asked in an appalled voice. "Oh no! That's _terrible_, Harry. Why, without you there who shall ever escort Miss Ginny Weasley to Madam Puddifoot's for tea?"

Harry scowled as he heard some of the Slytherins begin to snicker. Draco Malfoy whispered, "Aww, poor little Weasley will be all alone. Perhaps _I'll_ help her."

"Don't you dare—" Harry began to snarl but Professor Woodhouse cut him off.

"—Tut, tut, dearies. None of that sort of mischief here. Harry, I'll speak to Professor Snape. He's a good man, honestly. He just needs some love in his life!"

Harry gagged. The only thing Snape needed was shampoo.

* * *

Whatever Professor Woodhouse did, it worked. Snape amazingly let him reschedule his detention (although now he had a total of three) and now he was walking with Ginny to Madam Puddifoot's.

"Oh, look at that line," Ginny sighed as they approached the tea shop covered with little red hearts.

"Yeah…do you want to go someplace else?" Harry offered.

"No," she shook her head determinedly. "We'll get in there. Besides, I think Ron and Hermione are already there and I'd like to oversee my brother so he doesn't say anything stupid to Hermione again. It seems all he does is spend his allowance on chocolate and books to make Hermione forgive him for his various bouts of stupidity."

Eventually they made their way into the busy establishment. Madam Puddifoot herself looked flushed as she struggled to take care of all of the orders. Ever since Professor Woodhouse had arrived she had somehow matched up most of Hogwarts.

Goyle and Crabbe were together and delightfully 'out' to the school. Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were mismatched in height but matched in true love. Draco and Luna Lovegood made an interesting couple that were surprisingly well-suited together. Neville 'BAMF' Longbottom had come further out of his shell thanks to Professor Woodhouse and was currently courting two Ravenclaws, three Gryffindors, five Hufflepuffs, and even one Slytherin (some people alluded to orgies but Harry didn't like to think of his friend that way).

But then, as Harry's eyes swept over the tea house, he saw the most astonishing couple ever produced.

Professor Emma Woodhouse and Professor Severus Snape.

"Oh Merlin!" he gasped as he nudged Ginny.

"Oh! Eww," she whispered.

Professor Woodhouse glimpsed them then and waved them over (much to Snape's displeasure). "Oh! Children, over here!"

Begrudgingly they made their way over there.

"OH _Harry_!" Professor Woodhouse trilled. "I am ever so glad I heard about your detention and decided to finally confront Severus on how he treats his students."

Snape's eyes defiantly stared at Harry as if asking him to mock any part of this.

"Anyways we began arguing – oh, and you know how I love a good argument, as well as older men – and then he just kissed me, the brute!" Professor Woodhouse giggled as she clenched Snape's hand in hers. She held up a diamond ring and declared, "We're getting married next month!"

"Er, wow. Congratulations," Harry squeaked. Poor Professor Woodhouse!

"Yes, congrats," Ginny added.

"Thank you," Snape flatly stated. Professor Woodhouse shot him a look and he sighed. "And on account of you indirectly matching us up, Potter, I am taking away your detentions."

"Really? Wow, thanks!"

Snape sighed and looked to his fiancé. "There now. Does that make my snuggly-bunny happy?" he asked her begrudgingly as his thin lips twisted into a slightly smirk.

Professor Woodhouse kissed him lightly. "Sure does, hunnikens."

Luckily Harry didn't have to witness more because an explosion rocketed outside and everyone ran to see what happened. There, standing under the sun's harsh glare, were Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange.

"GIVE ME HARRY POTTER!" the Dark Lord screamed.

"YES, LISTEN TO THE DARK LORD!" Bellatrix screeched before giving Voldemort a lustful look.

Harry decided to step forward and finally face the bastard who killed his parents, but a petite hand pulled him back. "Wait a moment, Harry dear," Professor Woodhouse whispered. She stepped forward instead and gave the two evil magic users a friendly smile.

"Hello there. My name is Emma Woodhouse. I assume you are Lord Voldemort, but who is that ravishing beauty next to you?"

"What? Who?" Voldemort asked in confusion.

Bellatrix haughtily tossed some of her thick curly black hair over her shoulder. It was clear that once she had been stunning but madness and Azkaban had stolen much of her beauty (unless you liked crazy chicks). "I believe she meant me, my lord."

"What? Oh yes, yes. Of course. Well, this is my loyal servant, Bellatrix Lestrange. Likely if you do not bring me Harry Potter soon I will allow her first dibs on killing the children."

"Oh, well we wouldn't want that," Professor Woodhouse smiled. "I'm sure he'll be here any minute. In the meantime, I was wondering if you two were a couple – you have a good deal of passion between you."

"I…er….well, we're not like that," Voldemort nervously explained.

Bellatrix looked at her feet sadly.

Emma walked in front of Bellatrix. "Oh no, that can't be true. I can see the true love between you. Bella worships you and you value her and care for her deeply, Lord Voldemort."

"Well…I mean, she is very important for me. The only one of my worshippers who searched for me after my old body was obliterated, actually." Voldemort scratched the top of his bad head and shrugged.

"Don't you think she's pretty? I mean, look at all this gorgeous hair," Emma smiled as she played with Bellatrix's hair while the woman shyly looked away from her lord.

"Well, yes…yes, she is a very attractive woman. Plus, a pureblood on top of that," Voldemort seemed to muse.

Professor Woodhouse walked over towards Voldemort. "Have you ever considered the fact that maybe why you're so angry is because you're really angry about something else…like how you're not with the woman you love?"

"Wh-what? No. Naw. That's rubbish. Rubbish I say!" Voldemort quickly denied.

"Rubbish?" Bellatrix shouted. "What about that night we got drunk on a pitcher of _Bloody Mare-y_ – unicorn blood and vodka – and made love in that cemetery?"

"Bella, come now. You know that was just a 'thing'," Voldemort tried to explain in an unconvincing tone as he shuffled his feet under his thick black robe.

"I don't know...I think you both need to admit your feelings for each other," Professor Woodhouse shrugged with a secretive smile.

"Yes, exactly what she said…I love you, most darkest of lords!" Bellatrix shouted bravely as she grabbed Voldemort's hand.

"I…I love you, too," Voldemort whispered in a hesitant voice. "I think I was just too scared to accept that before. Since I was left by my mother, dismissed by my father, and grew up in an orphanage I didn't want to admit I loved someone. But…I do. Merlin help me, but I do love you Bella."

"Oh Voldemort!"

"Oh Bella!"

The two met in a deep kiss that left their audience with shudders of revulsion (except Parvati and Lavender who thought it was 'super cute!').

"And that," Professor Woodhouse announced in a superior voice and stunning smile, "is how we defend ourselves against the dark arts where _I'm_ from."


	6. Professor Sherlock Holmes

**Professor Sherlock Holmes (Sherlock Holmes 2009)**

Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked with trepidation into their Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom for the first day of classes. Smoke curled along the ceiling, causing them to sneeze, and the room smelled of stale alcohol. Their latest professor was sitting cross-legged by the window skimming through today's _Daily Prophet_ while muttering madly to himself and smoking a pipe. Several times he would absent-mindedly rub his nose, as if he had an itch he couldn't rid himself of. He was dressed quite properly, although he wasn't wearing robes like the other professors. A bowler hat, nice slacks, tie, vest, and shirt made up his ensemble in varying shades of brown.

Everyone took their seat quietly as they strained to listen in on the professor's conversation with himself.

"Interesting…how do they manage to get the pictures to move in such a way? Rather rubbish articles, are all like this in the wizarding world? Barely no information on that Voldemort bloke…it's almost as if they wish to keep the public in the dark. But why? To alleviate hysteria or is there a more sinister purpose?"

Harry exchanged a look with his friends and mouthed "Just who is this guy?"

Ron mouthed back "I dunno" and shrugged his shoulders. Hermione rolled here eyes and pulled some Muggle newspaper clippings from her bag. Harry took them and his eyes widened in concern. Just why would Dumbledore send a famous Muggle private detective to be their new DADA professor?

The bell rang and the professor jumped to his feet, primly folded the newspaper and set it on his desk, and then began pacing around the room as he took in every detail of his new charges. "I am Professor Sherlock Holmes, your new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor. My previous occupation was serving as a private detective in London but Headmaster Dumbledore thought my talents could be of some use." His tone was clipped and he spoke quickly, as if he had too many thoughts circling through his head at every moment.

"Wait…so you're a _Muggle_?" Draco asked in revulsion.

"Muggle, the term you folk give to those who are not wizards. Why, yes." Professor Holmes sniffed several times and rubbed his nose. His eyes roved up to the ceiling as he pondered something and then he stood in front of Draco.

"Judging by your pallid features, white-blond hair, and air of assumed nobility, I imagine you are Mr. Lucius Malfoy's son."

"Yeah, I'm a Malfoy," he sneered. The name 'Malfoy' seemed to drip from his tongue like acid rainwater from a curled leaf.

"Yes, I saw your father's portrait in the _Daily Prophet_ when they took him into Azkaban for being a Death Eater, known follower of licentious Lord Voldemort, and for assaulting several underage witches and wizards at the Ministry of Magic." Professor Holmes' eyes darted towards Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville, but he said nothing of them specifically.

"Therefore, I can tell that the hatred of Muggles runs in your family, as it has passed from your father to you, however at the moment I cannot know if you will walk in your father's shoes – if you are prepared to break the law, to murder and torture other human beings. Tell me Draco, is that a desire of yours? If so you should most likely be sent to St. Mungo's for adolescent therapy and not in a class that fights against the same dark arts that you may quite possibly enjoy."

Draco swallowed heavily as he felt the weight of every eye upon him and the professor's unfixing stare. "Um, n-n-no, sir."

Professor Holmes cocked his head to the side. "No what, Mr. Malfoy? No you do not want to walk in your father's footsteps and be a killer or no you do not want to be in St. Mungo's?"

"N-no…I don't want to be a killer," Draco mumbled.

"Excellent old chap," Holmes grinned and slapped the boy on the back. "That's the kind of attitude I prefer in my classroom. Well, that and a penchant for interesting substances and a dislike of authority – not mine though, of course!"

As the professor continued talking Harry listened with a wide smile. He was definitely starting to like this professor already!

* * *

Months later Harry visited Professor Holmes' office. "Professor? I'm here like you requested," he called as pushed back the partially opened door. He saw the professor sitting down and snorting a white powdery substance off of his desk. "Er, Professor?"

Holmes took one final sniff, rubbed his nose, and smiled at Harry. "Hello Harry! You're a bit early. Or, I'm a bit late," he amended as he glanced at his pocket watch.

"Um, what was that, Professor?" Harry asked curiously as he pointed towards the desk.

"Harry," Holmes stated in an admonishing tone. "What in the name of Merlin have I been teaching you these last few months? If you have a question you should determine your own results using reason and logic."

"I did sir. I see that you are inhaling a white powder through your nose. Often times you sniff or rub your nose in class, leading me to believe this is a frequent past time of yours. Add to the fact that you often move around as if you are agitated and have a great deal of energy, I can only conclude that you just used, and are addicted to, cocaine. I was only asking you to see if you would a) name your drug of choice by your own free will and b) to confirm my suspicions."

Professor Holmes grinned at him. "Well done, Harry! I love to see my students begin to utilize their common sense and come to logical conclusions – something I haven't seen of very often in the wizarding world."

"Thank you Professor," Harry beamed. "Of course, you did not answer my question."

"And persistent too! You're getting quite good at this."

"Professor."

"Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Alright, I will move on. Anyways, what did you need to see me for?"

"I've been doing some research, Harry, and thus far I am most curious about my findings. I thought you should know of them. Tell me, do you know about the prophecy about you?"

"Um…well, yeah," he answered uneasily. Only he and Dumbledore knew the entire prophecy.

"Neither shall live while the other survives, yes?"

"Wait, how do you know that?"

Holmes waved the question away. "Why is it that no one has ever gone looking for Voldemort to kill him, do you think?"

"I don't know. I mean, he hides out."

"Hmm…but is his hiding place really that good? Or are people not looking hard enough. Think Harry," he whispered intently as he shifted in his high-backed chair.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I don't know. I mean, Dumbledore's tried…"

"Has he?"

"Well, _yeah_. Dumbledore is the only one that Voldemort is afraid of!"

"And why is that?"

"Because he's the most powerful wizard in the world, of course."

"You are merely repeating time old refrains, Harry! Not using your own logic. Think!"

"Well, why else would Voldemort be afraid?" Harry asked in exasperation.

"An excellent question. Why would he? Unless, of course, it isn't _fear_ that keeps him from attacking Dumbledore or Hogwarts. Perhaps it is something else, something that hides from the light of day."

"Professor Holmes, you're a mad man," Harry stated angrily as he stood to his feet and strode out the door. How dare he insinuate that Dumbledore wasn't wonderful!

* * *

One week passed, then two. His DADA class went on as normal and neither of he nor the professor spoke about their conversation, but Harry couldn't get it out of his mind. He didn't want to tell Hermione or Ron just yet but at the same time he couldn't stop thinking about it. Eventually he realized that he didn't really know anything about Dumbledore – where he was from or what his family was like. In the end he went to the library and began reading up on Dumbledore – Professor Holmes had begun to instill a thirst for knowledge and logic within him and he yearned to quench it on this particular issue.

It turned out that Dumbledore was from Godric's Hollow, just like Harry! And that his family was friends with Bathilda Bagshot, author of 'Hogwarts, A History'. Harry read all about Dumbledore's rise to international renown through his infamous duel against Gellert Grindlewald and his role against Voldemort in the wizarding world. However, those facts stated that it *could* be fear that kept Voldemort from Hogwarts but nothing else was out of the question. Harry needed to know everything.

So during the next Hogsmeade visit he floo'd over to meet Bathilda and brought plenty of chocolates to butter her up with. The elderly woman was thrilled to have visitors and quickly began spinning her yarns about decades past. Apparently her nephew was Gindelwald who (drum roll please) actually *lived* with Bathilda one summer while Dumbledore was here. Harry read through old letters that Grindelwald had left – ones from Dumbledore – and quickly surmised that the two had a romantic relationship.

Not that Harry was surprised that Dumbledore swung that way (the man loved his purple robes) but an affair with one of the most evil men in the world? Astonishing.

Of course, that realization led to more thoughts…such that maybe 'most evil man in the world' was Dumbledore's type…

* * *

Harry spent more and more nights with Professor Holmes as they went over the facts and delved into logic (logic that was more often than not assisted by some delicious white powder that fired up both Harry's nose and mind). As their investigation finally began winding down Harry decided to finally bring his friends into the fold.

"I'm glad that you guys decided to talk to me today," Harry said as he paced aimlessly through the empty DADA classroom with a pipe – a gift from the professor, along with Harry's own shirt, vest, and bowler hat. He sniffed twice and continued. "I know we haven't seen each other very much lately."

"Well yes!" Hermione huffed as she jumped over to him and snatched his pipe out of his hands. "You're always with the professor doing god knows what! I mean, _smoking_? Really Harry?" she screeched angrily as she tossed the pipe to Ron.

When she wasn't looking Ron took an experimental puff.

"I recognize that I've been a bad friend on an emotional level but logically it will all make sense. I am about to unmask Voldemort and his conspirator finally!"

"Wow, that's awesome mate!" Ron grinned.

"How?" Hermione asked with a guarded expression but curious eyes.

"Listen closely, my dear Hermione…"

* * *

It was the end of year feast and the Great Hall was aflutter with nervous seventh years experiencing their final meal, sad first years who didn't know how they'd possibly survive the summer without their newest and bestest friends in the world, and one sixteen-year old boy who was calmly eating his meal in between knowing glances with the DADA professor.

Dumbledore began giving his typical speech when Harry Potter got up from his table – much to the concern of his fellow Gryffindors – and began marching towards the staff table. "Professor, I'd like to say some things."

Dumbledore peered over the top of his crescent-moon shaped glasses and smiled kindly. Harry had experienced an unadventurous school year for once and had been remarkably quiet. For any other student he would refuse but he could not refuse Harry Potter. "Of course, come on up."

Snape rolled his eyes and muttered angrily to himself at that arrogant brat.

Harry smiled at everyone and waved his arm in the air. "You can come out now." A dozen reporters and photographers stepped out from the shadows of the hall and everyone gave them a quizzical look (well, Dumbledore's look was more so worried).

"This is a press conference concerning the results of Professor Sherlock Holmes and Harry Potter's investigation on Voldemort." The crowd let out a collective gasp and Harry continued to speak in a crisp, clean voice as the professor set up a giant projector. "You see, we have deduced several things. One, that Albus Dumbledore is a homosexual with a penchant for evil men. Two, that Albus Dumbledore has put me in the path of Voldemort several times, in my first, second, fourth, and fifth years through intentional or unintentional means. Third, that no one has been able to find Voldemort evil though the most powerful wizard in the world – Albus Dumbledore – is looking for him."

"Now see here, Harry," Dumbledore interjected with a kind grandfatherly face while his blue eyes twinkled like the flames from hell. "I think you've had a bit of your punch spiked. Or perhaps your oddness is due to your new smoking habit.."

Harry ignored him and pointed to the white screen that was falling from the ceiling to land right behind him. "Fourth, it has been determined that Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort, and Albus Dumbledore are gay lovers in a masterminded tryst against the wizarding world itself!"

The hall was engulfed in shocked cries as dozens of pictures of the two men in inappropriate positions (taken from a secret camera in Dumbledore's study) flashed across the projector screen.

"GREAT MERLIN'S BEARD!" Madam Pomfrey shouted before she fainted at the display of images.

Worse, since a wizarding camera had been used the pictures were moving…so no one could say it was just two simple wizards hanging around at a nudist colony. Oh no, they were definitely engaging in sodomy. Sometimes with whipped cream, even. In fact, there was even one where they role-played and Dumbledore was wearing black spectacles and a wig of untidy black hair as Voldemort jabbed his…er…_wand_ into him.

"Why you filthy little—" Dumbledore snarled but Harry (who had already found Marvolo's ring and thus the Resurrection Stone within it, plus he owned his invisibility cloak so the wand more or less knew who it truly belonged to Harry Potter, Master of Death) performed an 'Expelliarmus' spell and caught the flying Elder Wand, leaving Dumbledore defenseless.

"Oi Professor, No 'un talks ta 'Arry Potter like tha'," Hagrid grumbled as he held the much smaller man back.

"Hermione? Ron?" Harry called with a maniacal smile as he absent-mindedly rubbed his nose. His best friends dragged in a screaming Voldemort who was completely naked except for a bright purple thong.

"Let me go you fools!" Voldemort snarled.

"Tommy!" Dumbledore gasped in surprise with softened eyes.

"Alby? Alby, they came for me while I was sleeping in our bed and I didn't have my wand!" Voldemort explained angrily as he struggled against the binds Hermione placed on him.

"What is the MEANING of this?" Professor McGonagall shouted. "Albus, what is GOING ON here?"

"Allow me to explain, professor. You see, the headmaster has what many Muggle teen magazines would refer to as a 'bad boy' addiction. Voldemort on the other hand as an 'abandoned child' syndrome and thus looks for approval with older authority figures. Dumbledore, once the lover of Grindelwald, has always loved power and saw the talent of Tom Riddle, thinking to take it for his own. He began a romantic tryst with him and they both decided to take over the wizarding world together, with Dumbledore being the silent partner.

"The reason why Voldemort never attacked Hogwarts? Easy. It was his home. He has been living in Dumbledore's bedroom the entire time! Just ask the gargoyle statues!"

Lights flashed as photographers took pictures, reporters called out questions, some of the students cried while others remarked on the new knowledge that the most evil man in the world was a giant poof, and Harry Potter smiled calmly as he reveled in his first successful case. Perhaps he should have been a Ravenclaw – analyzing facts and logic was far more helpful to uncovering the truth rather than brazenly jumping into a fight!

Meanwhile, Professor Sherlock Holmes smiled to himself and quietly walked out the door. His work was done here. Now it was on to the next case.

* * *

A/N:

Very, more awful mental images…lol…sorry!

*In case you didn't know, Holmes did use cocaine to help keep him 'stimulated': .org/wiki/Sherlock_Holmes#Use_of_drugs


	7. Professor Anita Blake

**Professor Anita Blake (Anita Blake)**

Their new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was already there, leaning back in her chair, as the Gryffindors and Slytherins meandered into the classroom. Her mess of thick black curls hung over her face as she systematically cleaned a handgun, her legs casually propped up on her desk. Her face was pale but her eyes were dark. As Harry looked closer at her eyes that were staring intently at her gun he saw something else in them too. Something…dangerous.

The bell rang and everyone settled into their seats and waited for the woman to say something. She didn't, instead she took the time to finish taking care of her gun before she set it into her shoulder holster and then let her eyes sweep over the class. She smiled softly.

"Good afternoon, class. I am Professor Blake. I'll admit that I don't have a lot of magical experience like yours but I've got a hell of a record at killing all sorts of dark creatures. Seems that's why Professor Dumbledore hired me, to get you all prepped for some war against the darkest wizard known to man."

Her eyes softened particularly as they roamed over Harry's still form. Her tone indicated disgust at what Dumbledore wanted from her, as if she didn't approve of kids fighting a war.

"Before we get started, are there any questions?"

A dozen hands went up. Professor Blake gestured for Draco to speak first.

"You mean…you aren't a witch?" he asked in disdain. "How are you supposed to help us learn the dark arts? Er, I mean how to _fight_ against the dark arts?"

"You name?"

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy," he sniffed in a superior tone.

"Malfoy, go stand against the wall."

"Uh…what?"

"If you want your question answered, you will go stand against the wall," she directed in a blank voice.

Rolling his eyes at Crabbe and Goyle, Draco did as she commanded.

"Okay, now don't move."

"Don't…huh? Wait, what are you doing?" Draco asked in a shrill voice as Professor Blake pulled out her gun. "Don't kill me!"

A cold look entered the professor's eyes. "Don't move or this will hurt – a lot." Then she began firing rapidly as Draco began crying like a little girl and the rest of the students began screaming.

...Well, except Harry and Ron. They thought Draco's punishment was well deserved.

When the professor was done Draco was still (unfortunately) alive and sobbing from his spot against the wall. A line of bullet holes traced his outline against the wall, like a perforated paper doll.

She turned back to the class and gestured towards Draco. "Tell me class, are wizards bullet-proof?"

"N-no, professor," Hermione stammered.

"Good. Then that's how I'll be teaching you Defense Against the Dark Arts."

* * *

Six months later Harry, Ron, Hermione, and several other of the most skilled DADA students broke into Voldemort's secret lair. The entire place turned into a bloodbath because it turned out that wizards were not Superman – no spells were faster than a speeding bullet. In no time they stalked into Voldemort's lair, who was gazing upon them in amusement.

"The ones you killed were worthless to me, you fool. Do you think I care about them? Now come to me, little Potter. Come to me and die."

Harry raised his AK-47 with a determined gleam in his eye. "I think it's time you di—"

Professor Blake lowered her gun. "Harry, wait."

Everyone stared at her in silent confusion. Her eyes were glazed over as she stared at Voldemort and she was breathing heavily. Likewise, Voldemort couldn't take his eyes off of her.

Professor Blake licked her lips and began moving towards the most evil wizard in the world. "I've been with evil vampires and weres, but you…" She swallowed heavily. "God, you're beautiful."

If Voldemort had eyebrows they would be furrowing in bewilderment. But he didn't, so he just eloquently voiced his thoughts. "Huh?"

"Take me, take me now you reptilian fool!" Professor Blake screamed as she launched herself into Voldemort's arms and began kissing him passionately.

Harry and Ron began losing their lunch. Hermione nearly exploded from the situation not properly computing in her head.

Voldemort began kissing Professor Blake back, hard. And then suddenly both of them lost their clothes and began making zealous love on the stone floor of the mock throne room.

"Oh my god…what the…?" Harry was at a lost for words as everyone tried averting their eyes.

Hermione shrugged as a few puzzle pieces clicked into place for her. "Not terribly surprising. I did do some research on Anita Blake, the Executioner. Turns out she has a harem of vampires and weres back home in St. Louis that she regularly sleeps with. I suppose it's not surprising that she would find a new type of evil boyfriend here in Britain." Then her head cocked to the side as she stared at the writhing figures on the floor.

"You know, on account of his eyes I always wondered if Voldemort was part snake. It turns out he just has a giant snake in his—"

"Don't say it!" Ron urged as a new round of vomiting commenced.

A/N:

Haha ;)

Ok, LAST bad mental image for a long time, maybe even the rest of the series. I just thought I should do all the bad ones at once, like ripping off a band-aid! Next up is Brock Samson – I PROMISE there will be delightful amounts of blood and gore (just for mmooch ;)

*In the Anita Blake books she's a necromancer and a vampire hunter of sorts. Problem is 10 books in she starts having multiple 'boyfriends' at one time and I think with the latest books she's up to a harem of several vampires (Jean-Claude, Asher, Damian), Wolves (Richard, Jason), Leopards (Nathaniel, Micah), 1 Tiger (Crispin), and 1 Lion (Nick)...at least.


	8. Professor Brock Samson

**Professor Brock Samson (Venture Brothers)**

A/N: Spoilers for Venture Brothers Season 4.

* * *

Harry chewed absent-mindedly on a Chocolate Frog as he leaned against the train window. In his car on the Hogwarts Express were Hermione, Ron, Neville, Ginny, and Luna; since the incident a few months ago at the Department of Mysteries they had all become much closer.

"Reckon You-Know-Who will try anything at Hogwarts?" Ron mused out loud.

"He wouldn't dare," Harry scoffed. "I saw him at the Ministry of Magic – he knows better than to mess with Dumbledore."

"_Besides_ Ron, haven't you read 'Hogwarts, A History?' The school is incredibly protected with layers of magic from the time of the Founders. Voldemort would be foolish to attempt anything.

"Not to mention the _pifflesnappers_ are guardians of the gate. They're quite ferocious, what with their hundred teeth," Luna interjected wisely in her dreamy voice.

Harry smiled at the girl others called 'Looney' Lovegood. He liked her quite a bit nowadays. She was smart and brave, but mostly it was how she had comforted him after the death of Sirius that made him come to appreciate her more. No one else he knew seemed to understand death; it was nice to not be alone in that aspect.

"Whoa, what do you think that is?" Neville asked suddenly as he pointed outside the window.

All teens turned to look. Along the tracks there wasn't a road but there was a patch of open grass that hosted a little red convertible (a 1969 Dodge Charger, if Dudley's stupid car posters had taught him anything) racing along. It was accelerating quickly and just about even with their train car.

"Bloody hell!" Ron gasped. "You think that's one of You-Know-Who's people, trying to catch us _before_ we get to Hogwarts?"

Immediately Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Neville yanked out their wands. Luna just toyed with hers as it sat above her ears but a sharp glint entered her dreamy blue eyes.

"Let 'em try," Harry all but snarled under his breath. He couldn't wait to get back at them for killing Sirius!

Suddenly the train screeched to a halt and the accompanying red car did the same in a cloud of dust. The jostling movement threw all of the teens around onto the ground, with Neville landing in Ginny's lap and Luna being thrown on top of Harry.

For a moment Harry and Luna just looked into each other's eyes.

"Er…" Harry trailed off. He was not used to girls being on top of him – although he definitely didn't mind.

Luna blinked owlishly. "Oh, I'm sorry Harry. For a moment while I was looking at you I couldn't breathe. There must be an infestation of _Respíroavióni_ on this train," she told him breathlessly as she eased up.

"Right," Harry gulped and scratched the back of his neck.

"Harry, what should we do?" Hermione asked quickly, bringing Harry back to reality.

"We do what we learned in DA," Harry stated with an affirming nod. "Let's go."

The teens pushed their way past the crowds to the front of the train where dozens of students were screaming.

"BRING OUT HARRY POTTER!" shouted a sinister voice.

Harry's lip curled and he blasted the exit door open with a spell before jumping out.

"Honestly, you could have just opened it," Hermione muttered with a roll of her eyes.

"I thought it was quite dramatic," Luna observed with a slight smile.

The five teens walked outside to see five Death Eaters waiting for them with drawn wands.

"Come with us, Pot—" their leader began to say before a blur of blue and black and yellow leapt from the top of the Hogwarts Express and broke his neck.

"What kind of namby pamby villains are you, picking on kids?" the mysterious man growled before he somersaulted over a spell and used a knife to open up the next Death Eater from chin to his belly button.

Harry and the others winced at the messy wet sounds the wound made.

"Who are you?" snarled another Death Eater.

The linebacker-sized muscular man glared at the one who spoke. "Brock Samson, S.P.H.I.N.X. You boys aren't registered with the Guild, the Fraternity, or the Partnership, and we take care of rule breakers like you…by breaking your neck," he finished with a grim smile as he snapped that Death Eaters' neck.

"Kill him!" shouted another Death Eater and the final two began tossing spells. Brock evaded them easily and ripped off the wand-wielding arm of one Death Eater and then used it to beat the other Death Eater to a bloody pulp with it. Finally he killed the one-armed Death Eater and then cracked his knuckles, neck, and back in one silky move.

Awash in blood, he made his way to the teens. He holstered his knife (which was almost machete-sized) into his jeans and grimaced as he noticed that his black shirt was drenched in blood. "Dammit," he muttered. "This is my favorite shirt." With a sigh the blond mullet-haired man ripped off his dirty shirt and tossed it onto the ground.

Every girl aboard the train, plus Hermione and Ginny, promptly let out either a gasp, moan, or squeal and passed out from excitement.

Luna just cocked her head to the side and swallowed heavily. "Oh…my."

Harry, Ron, and Neville looked at the girls like they were nutters and then gazed at the man in apprehension. "Who _are_ you?" Harry finally asked.

"Told ya, Brock Samson. I work with S.P.H.I.N.X. We deal with any super villains who don't join either the Guild of Calamitous Intent, Fraternity of Torment, or The Peril Partnership. That loose-cannon Voldemort and his Death Eaters are next on our list."

Then his sharp eyes noticed the scar on Harry's forehead and he smiled knowingly. "Oh yeah, and I also got hired to be your next Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

At that acknowledgement Luna Lovegood joined her female peers and also passed out from excitement.

* * *

The first class on the Gryffindor and Slytherin Sixth Years' schedule was Defense Against the Dark Arts – and everyone was excited. The whole school was in an uproar over the mysterious muggle man. Rumors said that he was 'half Swedish, one-quarter Polish, one-quarter Winnebago murder machine', a former bodyguard with an official 'A License to Kill', and that he had even killed Hitler. Every female was in a tizzy over the broad-shouldered sexy, secretive professor (even Professor McGonagall and the other female staff were known to blush in his presence) and of course every male wanted to _be_ Brock Samson.

As they piled into class, whispers bouncing off the walls like the buzz of excited bees, Harry overheard Draco complain under his breath to his entourage of Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy.

"I don't understand what the big bloody deal is," he sniffed. "He's _just_ a muggle. What can that motherfucker really teach us?"

Harry – who was already feeling loyal to the new professor on account of him saving Harry's life – interjected angrily. "You would be upset, wouldn't you Malfoy? Bet Professor Samson killed one of your family friends. By the way, how is daddy dearest these days?"

Draco's pale face reddened and he immediately went for his wand. "Shut your foul mouth, motherfucker!"

Harry's wand was out and he narrowed his eyes. "What are you going to do, curse me? Like father, like son," he snorted as the entire class – who became silent the moment Harry first spoke – gasped.

Draco opened his mouth to cast a spell and Harry was about to say his own when the lights flickered and the room was cast into darkness. Several girls screamed and Harry ducked in case that wanker decided to curse him in the darkness. However Harry never reached the floor because a pair of strong hands yanked him up and pulled him to the other side of the room. His body was contorted and he felt rough rope binding him quicker than he could struggle against it. "Hey!" he shouted in anger – and a smidge of fear. Who _was_ this? Did Death Eaters finally figure out a way to sneak it?

Five minutes passed and the lights flickered back on. The image displayed before Harry's eyes was startling.

Both he and Draco were hog-tied and placed on the teacher's desk. Neville was hanging from a light fixture on the wall by the back of his robe. Ron was tied to the chair he had been sitting in, like many of the other boys in the room. Hermione and the girls, however, were not tied up but they were all shouting about "Where did my wand go?"

And there, to Harry's right, was Professor Samson grinning madly and holding 30 wands in his left fist and a bundle of rope slung over his shoulder. He had forgone the traditional professor robes and instead wore a black and tan button-up shirt and tight tan slacks – it looked like it was the dressiest piece of clothing the man had.

"Motherfuck!" Draco sputtered angrily. "How DARE you tie me up like this! And take our wands!"

Several other students, especially the Slytherins, agreed silently with a nod of their head – but none of them was as stupid as Draco to yell at a man with 'A License to Kill'.

Professor Samson chuckled darkly. "Listen Casper, anyone who is about to start a fight in my class _without_ approval will get tied up."

"How did you know?" Harry asked in confusion.

The professor pointed up to the rafters of the high-ceilinged room. There on one of the beams was a half-eaten burger and a cheese Danish. "Been watchin' you kids since you all walked in."

"But why, Professor?" Hermione asked.

"Test you," he smiled. "See how you'd handle an attack." He shot them all a glare. "You all failed miserably, by the way. If I was allowed to kill students and I changed my rules of not killing women and children, all of you would be dead by now. Now c'mon. Ladies, help untie the boys and you can all claim your wands." He dropped their wands casually onto the desk and then sat behind it.

Pansy helped a seething Draco and Hermione helped him after she assisted Ron. Everyone settled into their seats without a word – too scared to arouse the anger of the professor – and gazed at him expectantly.

"Alright, let's get started," he began in a his gravelly voice. "After years of mostly incompetent and or evil professors, Dumbledore hired me through Hogwarts' new partnership with S.P.H.I.N.X., the organization I work for that's after Voldemort. I'm here to train you on how to battle the dark arts – be they dark wizards or giant morons dressed up as butterflies. I'm required to teach you some book stuff but mostly this will be hands on. You will get dirty. You will get bloody. You will endure pain."

By this part of his speech every teen's eyes were widened dramatically in apprehension and fear.

"_But_, you'll stay alive. And you'll learn 99 ways to kill a man in just under five minutes. Does this sound satisfactory to everyone?"

Several hands shot immediately up – mostly Slytherin boys like Theo Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle, but also Seamus Finnigan and (surprisingly) Parvati Patil. Slowly other hands kept reaching up until it was the entire class. Harry was most surprised that Hermione had her hand raised and he said so.

"Well," Hermione answered with a shrug. "I don't plan on actually _killing_ anyone but we are at war and it's best to be practical and learn everything the professor is willing to teach us. You never know."

Harry figured she had a point.

* * *

Neville Longbottom was sitting in the library working on his DADA homework a few days later when (surprise, surprise) some sixth and seventh year Slytherins started in on him. Sure, he wasn't the same Neville from years past – he _had_ fought Death Eaters last year but he was 'still in his shell', as Grams would say. After spending so much time as the 'loser' of Gryffindor, he really didn't know how to change at this point.

So he just ignored the boys.

"Oh Nelly, come now, don't ignore me," Blaise Zabini smirked. "I was just asking you a question. Now, is it true that you have a special house elf just to tie your shoes since you're so fat you can't bend over, or not?"

His friends laughed and Neville felt his ears growing warm. Blaise was the 'pretty boy' of the school, had all the girls, and thought he was a legitimate king of sorts…Neville pretty much resented him on those levels.

Blaise started to say something else before a guttural voice interrupted him. "Zabini," Professor Samson stated as his bear paw of a hand clamped down on the boy's shoulder. "This is a library, so shut your mouth and get reading."

Really when he talked like that Neville wasn't surprised that Madam Pince had a huge crush on the teacher.

"Y-yes sir," Blaise gulped. As the professor stood over the group of Slytherins glowering they quickly picked up their books and also moved to the opposite end of the library.

"Thanks," Neville muttered glumly. "But you didn't have to do that."

"Do what?" Professor Samson shrugged. "It's important not to make a ruckus in libraries," he said with a slight twitch of his lips.

"Right," Neville said unconvincingly as he turned another page in his book.

The professor didn't say anything for a moment but finally he sighed and sat down across from Neville. "Look, Neville. Why didn't you just tell those kids to go screw themselves? You really oughta stick up for yourself."

"Yeah, well…" Neville shrugged. "I dunno, it's just hard. Plus, they're a lot better at dueling than I am, in better shape too. I don't want to start anything."

"Pfft. I heard about you and that Potter kid and the others. You fought against wizards much bigger and talented than you. Give yourself a break, kid."

"Yeah, well there wasn't another choice – I couldn't let my friends go off alone," Neville explained.

Professor Samson smiled. "You remind me of this kid Hank I know – you got potential kid…and I think I should help you find it."

"M-me?" Neville gulped.

* * *

Six months later S.P.H.I.N.X. finally learned where Voldemort was hiding – Malfoy Manor.

Professor Samson enlisted a dozen of his most talented students and spoke to them one stormy night to describe the situation. Once he was finished he said, "And I've chosen all of you to help now that you are junior S.P.H.I.N.X. members."

"B-but that's my house!" Draco stated in shock.

"Exactly. You're no longer that little mama's boy anymore, Drake. And we'll need you to help us with the manor's layout. Plus, don't you want to get your mom away from that evil bastard who threatening to kill your mother unless you kill Dumbledore?" Professor Samson asked pointedly.

Draco gave a solemn nod. "Yes, you're right," he said in a defeated voice.

"Good. Hermione will be leading the reconnaissance team consisting of Theo and Draco. Harry and I will head straight for the snake man himself, since that prophecy says it needs to be Harry, but I'll help if needed. And finally Neville will be leading the main team of Hannah, Parvati, Seamus, Ron, Luna, Ginny, and Dean."

Everyone grinned and the girls all gave Neville secretive glances. The top student in DADA, thanks to private lessons with Brock, stood to his feet and nodded. He wore tight jeans and a tight black shirt that easily displayed his broad shoulders and well-muscled chest. His dark locks were cut into a mullet like the professor's – a perfect combination of business and partying that now defined Neville Longbottom's life.

"But sir, Dumbledore would not approve of us leaving grounds to fight Voldemort by ourselves…how are we going to get away?" Hermione asked.

"I called in an old favor," Professor Samson said in his usual stoic tone as he led them outside. There, hovering in the sky, was a giant yellow cocoon. Steps fell out of the bottom and a man wearing yellow and black with wings poked his head out. He sighed in exasperation, rubbed his over-sized nose, and began shouting in a shrill voice.

"Goddammit Samson! Been waiting all day here. Now hurry up with the 'lil brats so we can get going – Footballers' Wives starts in an hour!"

The Monarch, 'evil' supervillain extraordinaire, dropped them off at Malfoy Manor in his flying cocoon and quickly took off. Hermione led her team through and reported back to them via her Patronus, an otter.

"We suspect Voldemort has hidden himself in the basement. Mrs. Malfoy and her sister Bellatrix are in the den playing cards. One dozen Death Eaters are patrolling the grounds and another two dozen are inside patrolling. My suggestion is we play the 'Sudden Death' round."

As her patronus evaporated, Professor Samson stated in his low voice. "It's kill or be killed, kids. Give 'em hell."

Professor Samson and the junior S.P.H.I.N.X. members descended onto the manor like fire ants, destroying everything in their path. One Death Eater tried to curse Ron but the boy leapt onto the adjoining wall, jumped behind the Death Eater, and cut his head off with a machete. Parvati was jumped by another, Dolohov, and the man started strangling her. Using her well training and flexible body, she dropped back (thus loosening Dolohov's hold) and then kicked upwards to wrap her ankles around the taller man's neck – effectively strangling him to death first.

Harry, when he wasn't breaking skulls, was personally enraptured by Luna's dancelike, deadly moves. Thanks to some 'lessons' from Professor Samson on how to talk to girls, Harry had finally asked her out two months ago. Likewise the professor had certainly helped Neville 'Big Man on Campus' Longbottom break out of his shell; the boy was dating half of the school at this point.

"'Ello there, little girl," sneered Goyle, Senior. "C'mere so I can have some fun before I kill you."

Luna gave him an enigmatic smile. "Oh, alright then." She stepped closer and Goyle let out a giddy laugh as he grabbed her roughly by the chin.

"Stupid girl," he smirked.

Her dreamy eyes glinted with murderous intent. "Heartless bastard," she commented with an innocent smile as she punched through Goyle's ribs, breaking them, and ripped his still-beating heart out.

"Nice one!" Harry called as ripped out the tongue of another Death Eater trying to curse him.

Holding up the heart proudly, Luna shouted, "Happy Valentine's Day, Harry!"

Harry grinned. The girl sure did know how to celebrate a Hallmark holiday.

A group – Harry, Professor Samson, Neville, and Draco – of them made their way farther into the house but were blocked by Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Draco Malfoy! What ARE you thinking?" his mother snarled as she and Bellatrix maintained a shielding spell so they couldn't pass. "You cannot help Harry Potter – the Dark Lord is too strong and will kill you in revenge!"

"Yes, dear nephew you ignorant fool," snapped Bellatrix. "Turn over Potter and everything will be alright."

Draco – who had gotten his ass kicked more than once by Professor Samson – now knew the truth of right and wrong (and how you could even be a 'good' guy like the professor but still get to kill people!) shook his head. "No. Now let us pass."

"Never!" both women shouted.

Professor Samson sighed and waved the boys to lower their wands. "I got this."

Then he ripped off his pants and shirt in one swift move. He posed and leered at the two women. "Ladies."

"Oh…my…" Mrs. Malfoy whispered.

"Hot damn!" Bellatrix shouted. "Cissy, lower the wards!"

In a flash of movement the two women were on top of Professor Samson and he was ripping their clothes off as well.

"Motherfucker," Draco whispered in a stricken voice.

"He sure is," Neville agreed as both he and Harry took a moment to observe the 'Brock Samson' technique. It was much better than the pornography the Weasley twins had procured for them from _'Witches Love Wands'_ magazine.

"Shut up and just get going!" Draco shouted in annoyance as he pushed Harry and Neville down towards the basement.

They found Voldemort waiting for them just a few moments later.

"Potter, Malfoy, and Longbottom. What a pleasure," Voldemort snarked as he tapped his wand against his other hand. "I've been waiting. Heard you received all sorts of…_training_," he sneered, "from a _muggle_ of all people."

"Yeah well that muggle just helped us kill a ton of Death Eaters and is now fucking your Brides of Voldemort up there," Neville smirked.

"B-Bella?" Voldemort asked in surprise. "She has betrayed me?"

"Yeah, I'm guessin' it's because you're more impotent than Dick Clark at this point," Harry joked as he took a step forward.

Voldemort cursed and raised his wand but Harry barreled into the evil wizard like a linebacker, effectively knocking his wand out of his hand easier than an 'Expeliarmus'.

"You brute! Who fights like a muggle?" Voldemort asked as Harry began punching him.

"Someone who enjoys the satisfaction of feeling your bones break," Harry muttered as he broke every single bone in Voldemort's wand hand.

"OW! Get off me!" Voldemort shouted as he pulled Harry's hair.

"Seriously? Hair pulling?" Neville whispered to Draco as they both started laughing.

Harry pulled out the giant knife that Professor Samson had given him for Christmas and stabbed Voldemort in the heart. He let out a death rattle…but then the _thing_ started breathing again.

"Why won't you die?" Harry growled as he went ahead and ripped out Voldemort's spinal cord for good measure.

"Nothing can kill me for good!" Voldemort called out gleefully after another brief moment of death.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he began choking Voldemort with his own spinal cord and _still_ the wizard stayed alive.

"Harry?" Luna called tentatively as she came down from the stairs, her pastel clothes brightened by fresh blood. "Need some help?"

"If you want," Harry shrugged as he repeatedly smashed Voldemort's head into the cement wall.

Being careful not to get any brain matter on her clothes, Luna went ahead and ripped out Voldemort's heart. His body shook for a moment but then his eyes opened again.

"You will never be rid of me!" Voldemort winced as he distractingly rubbed his open wound.

"Damn, you kids aren't done yet?" Professor Samson asked as he walked downstairs with the rest of the Junior S.P.H.I.N.X. members. He gazed at the bloody and broken, yet laughing, body of Voldemort. "Don't tell me he's one of those immortal types," he sighed.

"I sure am!" Voldemort said with a gleeful laugh.

"Oh for crying out…Nevermind, lemme handle this," Professor Samson sighed as he pulled out his Bowie knife. He cut off Voldemort's shrieking head, unzipped his pants, and then peed into Voldemort's gaping – and silent – mouth.

"There. That'll keep the old bastard from rising again."

"Your…urine…can prevent resurrection?" Hermione asked in wonder.

Professor Samson shrugged. "Worked on a mummy once."

* * *

**_Epilogue:_**

The Wizarding World rejoiced at the death of Voldemort and Brock Samson moved back to America – after working with youth for so many months he missed Hank and Dean so he decided to be their bodyguard again.

Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood became Unspeakables (the equivalent of working for S.P.H.I.N.X. in the wizarding world) and had many babies, all of whom knew 99 ways to kill a man by the time they were six years old.

Draco Malfoy was extremely disturbed that he had a new younger brother with a blond mullet and a new younger cousin with a black mullet. However, he tried to ignore that his mother and aunt both had sex with Professor Samson and luckily found love with the surprisingly bloodthirsty and fun Parvati Patil. They joined the Guild of Calamitous Intent after interning with the Monarch and Dr. Mrs. Girlfriend and are currently arching Harry and Luna.

Neville Longbottom grew up in the likeness of Brock Samson with his looks, fighting skills, and sexual appetite. Finally a woman with the looks of a pixie but the attitude of a tigress tamed him, and he and Ginny Weasley have been happy ever since.

Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger dated for a long while until they realized they weren't meant to be. Several years later when they visited Professor Samson at the Venture Compound Ron met Dr. Orpheus' daughter Triana and fell in love with the dark daughter of the famous sorcerer. Hermione didn't mind; she grew up into quite the young hottie that caught Brock's eye and he forgot all about Molotov Cocktease.

* * *

A/N:

MUCH longer than normal…but I love Brock Samson (as evidenced by featuring him in the Star Wars verse in Picking Pairings out of a Pocket) and had fun with this, plus I wanted to create some fun pairings ;)

*Brock's car:  
*SPHINX: /vbwiki/SPHINX  
*Draco's penchant for cursing was created to provide foreshadowing for Brock proving what a 'motherfucker' he really was ;)  
* Footballer's Wives – soap opera from BBC – one of my guilty pleasures ;)


	9. Professor Red Foreman

Professor Red Foreman (That 70s Show)

A/N:  
Red Foreman belongs to That 70s Show.

Everyone was frightened of the newest DADA professor.

He refused to wear professor robes because he said they were 'sissy girl dresses' and instead came to class every day in a flannel shirt and denim jeans. His voice boomed through the classroom as he taught them – which often consisted of him yelling at them. When someone would answer a question wrong he would call them a 'dumbass' and take away House points. But the most frightening thing about Professor Foreman was that even Snape was scared of him.

Harry had witnessed their first exchange in the hallway leading down to the dungeons.

"Professor Foreman," Snape began in a sneering tone. "I heard you have chosen to disregard the standard texts in favor of your lewd 'muggle' methods."

"Lewd? Listen here, sissy-man. You and the rest of these damned wizards don't know the first thing about manual labor or fighting in a war. These kids can't learn how to fight because of some words in a book – their muscles have got to learn it."

"I assure you," Snape said with flashing eyes, "the Dark Lord does not fight like in one of your muggle methods; you know nothing about war."

Professor Foreman's nostrils' flared in anger as he pushed Snape against the wall. "Look, dumbass. I was in Okinawa shooting at Japanese snipers before you were even thought of, so yeah, I know a little something about war. This namby-pamby Dark Lord is just some cheap Hitler rip-off with a wand. I guarantee you he'll be taken care of once I'm done teaching the kids."

Snape bristled at being yelled at like he was a child, but he said nothing.

In fact, months later Snape still wasn't saying anything. He was awfully embarrassed after Professor Foreman led his troops – er, students – into battle by taking Malfoy Manor in a battle bloodier than Iwo Jima and taking out Voldemort with two sniper shots to the head.

A/N: This was just a real short ficlet. I'm having trouble thinking of creative deaths for Voldemort, haha! Mostly I just wanted Red to call Snape a dumbass ;) Plus, it is 5:30am and I cannot sleep for the life of me. Arrrrrgh :(


	10. Professors Criss Angel

Professor Criss Angel (Mindfreak)

A/N: This was heavily inspired by a Robot Chicken episode that I saw a while back. It was hilarious: .com/watch?v=aAJql0P8QYY. I was also inspired by the Supernatural Episode "Criss Angel is a Douchebag". (heehee)

Warning: Not that these fics are meant to be serious, but there is some slightly OOC-ness for Hermione in this one (I made her a bit more smart-ass-y, if that's possible). Also, I've been dealing with some writer's block and this is my fic to try to break out of it (hope it works).

Disclaimer: I am using the tv personality Criss Angel, famous 'magician'.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall crinkled her nose in distaste as she reviewed the rather arrogant cover letter. She glanced up at Albus in apprehension, her brows arching in derision. "Albus, you are _honestly_considering—"

"—I'm afraid I have no choice, Minerva. He is the only applicant – besides Severus. And we all know that Severus is a better Potions Master than Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

Minerva sighed in annoyance. "Well, at least we can hope that he'll be better than Gilderoy Lockhart."

Albus chuckled as he popped a lemon drop into his mouth. "I don't think it is possible for someone to be worse than Lockhart, Minerva."

Minerva prayed that he was correct in his assumption.

* * *

Harry, Hermione, and Ron were on their way to Defense Against the Dark Arts when Dennis Creevey ran into them. "Oh! Sorry there, Harry!" Dennis chirped.

"No problem," Harry gave the boy an indulgent smile. While the Creevey brothers – both Colin and Dennis – were irritating in the beginning, Harry had warmer feelings for them since they joined Dumbledore's Army last year.

"Are you on your way to DADA?" Dennis asked excitedly. Without waiting for an answer, he continued. "I just came from there and wow! You won't believe the new professor. He's _so_cool. He even floated in the air and everything!"

Hermione looked at the third year in interest. "Really? Perhaps we'll have a good teacher this year after all."

"I bet so!" Dennis nodded eagerly before scampering off.

The trio of friends took their places in the classroom and waited expectantly as the room filled up. Once the clock struck one the room darkened and a sinister voice curled around them.

"_**Are you ready to get mind-freaked?**_"

Instantly Harry and the other members of the DA had their wands drawn – they had learned a long time ago that only bad guys talked like that (like Lucius Malfoy).

An ominous chuckle filled the air and suddenly a spot of light shined on a man floating in mid-air above the teacher's desk. He wore tight leather pants, no shirts, and a bevy of silver chains around his neck. Black hair streaked with red hung limply around his face and his eyes were encircled with black eyeliner. There were several gasps throughout the classroom as he fixed them all with a pointed look. "Prepare to get mind-freaked, little witches and wizards, as we embark upon a magical year." He slowly lowered himself to the ground and held his hands up expectantly – as one does after a show.

However, no applause met him. In fact, the entire classroom of sharp-eyed Gryffindors and cunning Slytherins were eying him suspiciously. As always, it was Hermione that spoke first.

"Er, Professor Angel, why did you hoist yourself up in the air using thin cables?"

Professor Angel's eyes widened before he resumed his blank stare. "Student, I assure you I used powerful magic to suspend myself in the air." He sniffed. "Perhaps you are not prepared to be mind-freaked."

Draco let out a snarky snort of laughter. "Please. A simple levitation charm suspends a person – levitation charms are far from powerful, unless you're maybe lifting up a giant."

"_No_. If I said it once, I'll say it again – that was magic!" Professor Angel fervently denied.

"Rubbish, those were cables! In fact, they're still attached to your pants!" Ron called out with a stabbing motion made with his index finger.

Professor Angel gave them all an angry look. "Fine! I'll show you magic!" He went off-stage (every teacher changes the look of their classroom and now the DADA classroom had a stage in front where the teacher's desk sat) and pulled out a large kiddie pool full of water. "As you can see, this is a pool of water. I will now walk on water!"

As he walked on the water the smarter-than-they-looked sixth years gave the newest professor a discerning look. "Oh honestly!" Hermione huffed under her breath. "Would it kill Dumbledore to fill this position with someone competent?"

"Listen young girl," Professor Angel began in a calm-yet-slowly-losing-stability voice. "You are just blind to the world of magic because I clearly just walked on water!"

Clearly irritated that this professor had called her out in regards to her magical intelligence, Hermione stomped over to the kiddie pool. Professor Angel tried to stop her but Ron performed a mild tripping hex on him; no one messed with his girl! Upon reaching the pool Hermione thrust her hand into the water and retrieved something resembling a clear glass table. "Look! He was walking on top of this all along!"

Professor Angel quickly wrenched the glass out of her hand and casually tossed it behind him; the class winced at the sound of shattering glass. "What table? I don't see anything," he smiled almost nervously.

"Face it, professor, you're not a _real_wizard," Hermione said snidely with crossed arms.

Immediately Professor Angel's face darkened. "I'll show you all that I'm a real wizard!" he crowed. "In fact, I'll prove it—" he paused dramatically, "—by taking on Lord Voldemort myself!" The professor threw something at the ground and a thin mist of black smoke enveloped him.

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione in shock at the statement and then peered in amusement at Professor Criss Angel tiptoeing out of the room – completely unaware that his black smoke had already dissipated.

* * *

Lord Voldemort was enjoying an excellent shoulder massage from his loyal servant Bellatrix Lestrange when the Malfoy house wards went off.

"My Lord! Some fool dares to approach!" Bellatrix hissed as she gripped her wand. The Death Eater glanced around the sitting room, painted in cream hues with deep blue sofas and sitting chairs. The entrance to the room was a set of double glass doors with exquisite gold handles.

Voldemort's red eyes narrowed to slits as he focused on his magical connection to the wards. "I feel the presence of a muggle," he growled.

Bellatrix spat on the ground. "A muggle?" She spat again. "I hate muggles! They are filthy, disgusting things." Another spat. "We shall speak of them no-more!" she declared with a dramatic hand gesture.

Voldemort didn't even bother to glance at his faithful consort. Her insanity made him occasionally question just what sort of shelf life she had in his army. However, she was useful for now. "Let the muggle come to us, Bellatrix. I wish to properly introduce myself," he cackled gleefully.

Snickering, she nodded. "Of course my Lord!" she agreed with bright eyes.

About an hour later the double glass doors burst opened to reveal a lanky man with unkempt greasy black hair – Voldemort had to do a double take just to make sure the man was not a relation to Snape. Upon entering, the man threw up his hands dramatically, his lips pursed in a surly manner.

"BEHOLD, Lord Voldemort! For I am Criss Angel, master of magic, and I am here to freak your mind in the most deadly of ways!"

Lord Voldemort and Bellatrix exchanged a wry look of amusement. "Indeed?" Voldemort drawled as he lightly twirled his wand.

Cocking his head to the side, Criss Angel gave an arrogant smirk as he began levitating. "Throw down your wand now, Lord Voldemort, or suffer the consequences."

Voldemort yawned. "_Crucio_." The so-called master of magic began screaming in pain as he fell to the floor.

"OH…MY…GOD," Criss Angel whimpered as the spell wore off and he curled into a ball.

The Dark Lord threw him a lazy smirk. "Aren't supposed to be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, _Professor_Angel?"

"Y-yes," Criss Angel stuttered in between moans.

"Really? Then why don't you try defending something?" Voldemort chuckled darkly as he waved his wand a second time. The magician's body curled into a ball and then began bouncing against the plush carpet.

"Oh, wonderful interpretation of a rubber spell, my Lord!" Bellatrix gushed over the sound of Criss Angel's cries of pain as his balled-up body ricocheted from the floor to each corner of the room.

Smiling smugly, Voldemort nodded slightly; he knew that he was truly the most awesome wizard alive. "Something does appear to be missing, though," he mused.

"May I, my Lord?" Bellatrix asked with a wicked gleam in her eye.

Her Lord gave her an indulgent smile. "By all means, Bellatrix. If I do not give my followers opportunities, how will they ever grow?"

A minute later Bellatrix's spell was completed and the Malfoy family cat was transfigured into a Siberian tiger. Voldemort let his spell fade and Criss Angel fell, gasping, to the floor.

"Please…please stop," Criss Angel begged as tears rolled down his face.

Bellatrix sighed and gazed lovingly at Voldemort. "Isn't the begging of lowly muggles the most sensual sound, my Lord?"

Voldemort gave a careless shrug and summoned a tumbler of firewhiskey as he laid back in his chair. "Eh, it's alright."

Pouting that her advances had been stalled, Bellatrix crossed her arms and leaned back into the couch. With a vindictive curse, she made the tiger start to bat the current Hogwarts professor around like a dead mouse.

Finally, halfway through the night, Lord Voldemort began to tire of the muggle's incessant screams and groans. "Tell me, Professor—" he snorted, "—Angel, do you still consider yourself a great magician?"

Battered, bloodied, and broken, Criss Angel lay at Lord Voldemort's feet. "No, I am not a wizard," he answered with gasping breaths (thanks to one collapsed lung). "You are superior to all."

"That goes without saying, stupid muggle," Voldemort snorted in annoyance. "I grow tired of you. Bellatrix?"

The witch rubbed her hands vigorously together and cackled. "I know the perfect spell, my Lord!" she declared gleefully. With a flick of her wrist Criss Angel's mangy mane of hair began growing past his shoulders, then his hips, and then his feet. In one sudden movement his hair wrapped around his neck and flew towards the ceiling. Several minutes later he breathed his final breath and his lifeless body swung listlessly in front of them.

"Thank you, my Lord, for allowing me to kill that foolish muggle!" Bellatrix grinned.

"You are welcome Bellatrix. Now, finish my shoulder rub," Voldemort commanded as he leaned back in his chair.

With a bright smile, Bellatrix went to work.

The next day Criss Angel's body arrived at Hogwarts.

Not surprisingly, no one really cared.

* * *

A/N:

Bella's reaction to muggles is based off one of my favorite random 'Angel' characters – the Italian CEO of Wolfram and Hart.

For this series right now I'm working on the Boondock Saints brothers next, and maybe Elliot Stabler from SVU too…


	11. Professors Connor and Murphy McManus 1

Professors Connor & Murphy McManus (Boondock Saint

A/N:  
Warnings: Lots of swearing, mucho murder (of both humans and some of the four-legged variety). Oh, and madness. Ya know, the norm ;)

* * *

"Oi, Seamus!" Ron called out as food appeared on their plates during the Welcome Feast. "Is it true that the two new Defense Against the Dark Arts professors are related to you?"

Seamus Finnigan leaned in conspiratorially across the Gryffindor table; Ron, Hermione, and Harry all leaned in as well. "Yeah, they just moved here from Boston. Their ma is my ma's second cousin." His eyes darted towards the Staff Table for a moment. "Apparently their ma is a Squib so they were never taught magic."

"Never taught magic?" Hermione whispered outrageously. "Then how did they get hired here?"

Seamus shrugged. "My ma said that Dumbledore was pretty desperate and apparently they have experience fighting evil. Plus," his voice lowered, "I think they're on the run from the law and know they'd be safe within Hogwarts."

"What?" Hermione squeaked. "Why do you say that?"

A guilty expression passed over Seamus' expression. "Well…when we were over visiting I _may_ have stumbled into their room by accident and found a large box of guns and money in their closet."

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed as his friends uttered similar words of surprise. "You've got to be kidding me!"

"Seamus! I can't believe you snooped!" Hermione chastised. After a reflective moment she followed that up with, "And what do you mean they had money and guns?"

"I don't really know…but don't say anything, okay? I probably should have kept quiet," Seamus said sheepishly.

"Sure," the trio answered immediately – they would all ponder on the possibilities of these new professors with guns later.

"Well, at least they can't be worse than Umbridge," Harry pointed out. "Magic-less or not."

Each of them smiled grimly. Be worse than the psychotically saccharine Delores Umbridge? Impossible.

* * *

Harry hurried into the DADA classroom just a minute before class was about to start and immediately began observing his new professors. They certainly looked similar enough to be considered brothers. The one introduced at the Welcome Feast as Professor Connor MacManus was slightly taller with a lean build and dirty blond hair. Professor Murphy MacManus had darker hair and a thin beard and mustache. Both wore the standard black professor robes but a wooden Celtic cross necklace accompanied their outfits.

"Alright, welcome everybody," Professor Connor MacManus began with a clap of his hands. His Irish accent was rather distorted; Harry assumed that was a result of living in America for so long. "Since my brother and I have the same last name, why don't y'all make it easier on yourselves and just call me Professor Connor—"

"—And me Professor Murphy," the other professor added. They shared a slight smirk, almost as if they were amused by their current teaching situation.

"Apparently standard sixth year curriculum has you focusing on dark creatures. However, we know that with Lord Voldemort running around—"

Almost all of the Gryffindors and Slytherins winced at the name of the feared dark wizard.

Professor Connor raised a slight eyebrow at their reaction. "Anyways, with _Voldemort_ running around we decided it's best to prepare you in curse work and hexes."

Muffled words of interest erupted at his announcement.

"Like defensive spells, Professor?" Hermione asked with her arm primly raised in the air.

"Something like that," Professor Murphy answered her with an almost predatory smile.

* * *

The second day of class the students listened to their professors list their new spells to practice with barely veiled skepticism combined with a smidge of discomfort and minor disgust.

"Excuse me, Professors?" Hermione finally spoke up. "Are these spells standard for sixth year studies?"

They exchanged a look before Professor Connor answered. "Miss Granger, yes?" She nodded. "As we said the other day the standard curriculum isn't going to do much good with a fucking guerilla war out there."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise at his curse, along with some of the other girls, but the boys gazed at the professor with increased interest,

"B-but, these spells are rather dangerous! Some of them _kill_our opponents." She scoffed. "You may as well be teaching us the Killing Curse!"

Professor Murphy stepped forward and performed a spell that displayed pictures of burning homes and broken, bloody bodies; the images appeared as if on a television screen. "The Killing Curse is addictive – it's not one we recommend. However, every week yet another human being is turning up dead – thanks to that fucking snake and his cowardly cronies."

Several of the Slytherins – the children of Death Eaters – sneered at his description.

"The only way we can stop Voldemort is exterminating his rats like the vermin they are," Professor Murphy finished hotly.

Shocked silence met his violent statement. Finally, the calmer of the two brother spoke up.

"In the eyes of many, each of you are children. You probably shouldn't be put in this position right now. But my brother is right. War is afoot and the very people charged with protecting us are doing an arse-backwards job of it. Some of you have already been in battle against Death Eaters." Professor Connor gave Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville a significant look. "There's a good chance you may again. If that happens, we want to make sure you're still kicking afterwards."

With that logic, there was no further argument.

A month later class was interrupted by Professor McGonagall arriving to retrieve Dean Thomas. Seamus' best friend took one look at her serious expression and his dark skin paled a shade or two. "It's my mom, isn't it?" he said in a soft voice that trembled slightly at the end. "She was supposed to owl me but she didn't."

Professor McGonagall's thin lips pressed together; her expression gave nothing away but the truth lay in her eyes. "Come with me, Mr. Thomas."

Harry watched the half-blood Gryffindor collect his belongings with lackluster movements and walk stiffly out with McGonagall. He knew that Dean's wizard father had left his mother at a young age and then was killed by Death Eaters for refusing to join. Dean mentioned at dinner a couple weeks ago that his mother had gone into hiding due to recent threatening messages from the Death Eaters…but Harry couldn't believe that his friend's mother was dead.

A weight landed in his stomach and Harry suddenly felt ill at the war once again hurting someone he knew. He glanced cautiously at Seamus and saw that his face was pinched in pain – one could assume that Seamus knew his best friend's mother quite well. Then Harry looked towards the front of the class and noticed the professors gazing at their cousin in concern. They exchanged a silent look and turned back towards the class.

"Listen, perhaps due to recent events we should end class early," Professor Connor said. Many students nodded upon his statement but a few looked upset.

"No!" Seamus vehemently denied, surprising everyone.

"Ah, excuse me Seamus?" Professor Connor asked with a puzzled expression. Indeed, Harry and the others were looking at their classmate in surprise as well.

"We need to learn these spells now more than ever!" Seamus answered hotly, his freckled face reddening. "Thanks to You-Know-Who people we know are dying and need to be stopped! Not to mention, the Ministry is bloody worthless!"

"Excuse me, but my father works at the Ministry and they're certainly not worthless," Pansy Parkinson snootily added.

Having no love for the Ministry, Harry couldn't help but respond before Seamus could even open his mouth. "Are you blind? The Ministry is full of idiots! _Former_ Minister Fudge who _swore _that Voldemort was dead – until he bloody showed up at the Ministry itself! Then there's Delores Umbridge, that simpering psycho who tortured students last year when Fudge forced her onto us! Or, how about the fact that former Death Eaters get a free pass at the ministry?" At his final words Harry threw a dark look towards the Slytherin side of the room – most especially at Draco Malfoy.

"Listen Golden Boy, don't talk about things you don't understand," Pansy sneered. "Especially when you're no better than a mudblood – ignorant of the wizarding world's ways."

"You take that back!" Ron shouted in defense of his best friend.

"She doesn't have to take anything back – it's true!" snapped Draco.

"I'd rather be 'no better than a mudblood' than a child of murderers and rapists!" Harry shot back.

Within seconds the room exploded with the voices of multiple students shouting insults at the others. The McManus brothers looked at each other in exasperation and finally Professor Murphy shot off a handgun into the air. The shouting turned to screams and several of the students hid under their desk.

"EVERYBODY SHUT UP!" Professor Murphy commanded as his brother watched the class with a stern expression. "There's all sorts of evil about but the last sodding thing we need is all of us fighting with each other when there's something nastier out there." He let out an audible sigh. "I want each of you to think about this war tonight – everyone you've lost or could lose. Think about your real enemies."

"Class dismissed," Professor Connor added.

* * *

Later that day after dinner Harry was wandering through the halls contemplating the words of Professor Murphy. He supposed that maybe they had a point that it would be better if everyone banded together against Voldemort…but Harry could never see himself working with _Malfoy_, nevermind the rest of the Slytherins. Malfoy's dad had tried to kill them this past June and some of the other Slytherins were related to Death Eaters – they couldn't be trusted.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he nearly ran into his Defense Against the Dark Arts professors. "Oh, sorry there professors!" Harry apologized after the near-collision.

Professor Connor tossed him a lopsided grin. "No problem there, lad."

Raising one brow, Professor Murphy gave him a thoughtful look. "You know, we were just talking about you Harry. Do you have a moment?"

Feeling nervous that his professors wanted to speak to him alone (nevermind the fact that all of his former DADA professors had tried to kill him, on purpose or accident, at some point thus far made him rather skittish), Harry nodded. "Sure."

He followed them through the halls until finally they came to their shared office. The interior was decorated with several Celtic crosses and the flag of Ireland hanging on the wall. Other than that the room appeared quite spartan with just two desks and chairs.

"Have a seat, Harry," Professor Connor motioned.

Harry did as he asked, his fingers anxiously wringing together. Did they want to admonish him about his classroom outburst?

"Harry," Professor Connor began in a smooth voice as he sat on top of his desk, legs dangling over the edge. "We wanted to talk to you about class today."

Harry felt the back of his neck heat up. There was nothing worst than getting in trouble at school – except for Voldemort trying to single-handedly kill you, of course. "Yes sir."

"Is what you said about the Ministry of Magic true, Harry?" Professor Murphy inquired.

Performing a double-take in surprise, Harry responded with wide eyes. "E-excuse me, professor?" He had thought the professors were going to yell at him for shouting – not ask if he was telling the truth!

"We're sure you're familiar with the fact that we're new to the Wizarding World, Harry. Honestly, Murph and I don't know a lot about the government of this world – just that Voldemort is intent on taking it over. So you can imagine we were pretty interested when you rambled on about this fucking corruption within the Ministry."

"Especially about the fact that the Minister was told the truth but didn't do anything 'bout it," Professor Murphy added with gleaming eyes.

"Now we all must fear evil men But there is another kind of evil which we must fear most, and that is the indifference of good men," Professor Connor stated in a soft voice that had Harry's ears perking up. "And it sounds like these Ministry folk may very well be like that. So tell us what you know, Harry."

Harry Potter looked into the dark eyes of his professors and a shiver ran down his spine. He reflected on what he had already heard about these men – that they were probably on the run from the law and had a good supply of guns and money. Then there was the way they taught their class – that it was perfectly acceptable to use lethal spells on dark wizards. The McManus brothers clearly viewed the world with a different lens than Albus Dumbledore…what Harry couldn't figure out was if he agreed with them or not.

Regardless, he decided to answer their questions – after all, why shouldn't they know the truth?

In all, Harry spent several hours being practically grilled by the professors as they sought to learn every aspect of the corruption within the wizarding world: Cornelius Fudge caring more about his reputation than innocent lives, how former Death Eaters bought their freedom, that even now the Death Eaters were infiltrating the Ministry, how the _Daily Prophet_was black and white and full of lies all over, and more. Harry even told them that since the Wizengamot had not given his godfather Sirius a trial, the man had been illegally imprisoned and then forced to hide out, which likely led to his death.

Talking about Sirius, just four months after his death, was hard. Harry's knuckles turned white from gripping the chair arms and his words spilled quickly from his lips as he sought to retain his emotions.

"And I doubt the Ministry will be able to stop Voldemort," Harry stated bitterly. "They couldn't even get it right the first time. Had it not been for the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore – and er, me and my parents I guess – then he probably would have won."

"Hmm," Professor Connor mused as he rubbed his jaw. "Sounds like the entire wizarding world is full of fucking racist and moronic individuals, Murph."

"Aye," Professor Murphy drawled. "Perhaps we should do something about that, Connor."

Harry looked back and forth between his professors. He knew at that moment in his life he was standing at a fork in the road – he could choose to remain as people probably expected of him (a student, a child) or he could join the Irish brothers onto a much darker path. Thoughts of his parents, Sirius, and Cedric dying coupled with the discrimination against Lupin and his anger at the workings of the wizarding world made his decision for him.

"I want to help," Harry stated stubbornly.

The twins gave Harry a long assessing look, glanced at each other, and then back at Harry. "Aye," they agreed in unison.

* * *

The brothers acknowledged before training began that they were still amateurs at magic – although they did have the ability to use a wand, unlike their mother. Therefore, they showed Harry a hidden wall within their office that held their true tools of the trade.

"Whoa," Harry gasped. The wall turned to reveal a secret room with dozens of guns – handguns, rifles, shotguns, and even a bazooka – as well as a large bowie knife and a large spool of rope. His forehead crinkled at the latter sight. "What's the rope for?"

"What's the rope for?" Professor Connor – or Connor, as he said Harry could call him – repeated incredulously. "Tell me, what is the rope _not_for? This rope is the best fucking thing we got."

Murphy rolled his eyes. "You and your stupid fucking rope. It worked one bloody time and you're ready to put a ring on it."

Connor playfully punched his brother on the shoulder. "Shut your fucking mouth, Rambo," he smirked.

Scowling, Murphy plucked up the long jagged knife and showed it to Harry. "Tell me Harry, if you were going to take out some fucking wicked man, would you rather have a knife at your side or a bunch of fucking rope?"

"Er…" Harry didn't want to disappoint either of his professors – and new partners in crime – this early on. "I 'spose I'd like both. You could tie up Fudge with the rope and then cut his throat."

The professors gazed at him fondly. "I think we picked a fucking good partner, aye?" Murphy grinned.

"Aye, I fucking think so," Connor smiled.

* * *

*********  
****THE DAILY PROPHET****  
****Monday, October 5, 1996**

**DAILY PROPHET EDITOR MURDERED BY MUGGLES!****  
**

_by Betty Braithwaite_

It is this senior reporter's solemn duty to report that _Daily Prophet_Editor-In-Chief Barnabas Cuffe was brutally murdered in his home early this morning around four o'clock. Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt was among the first on the scene and stated that "Mr. Cuffe was murdered by three bullets to the back of his head." The investigation is on-going but it is believed that a violent muggle broke into the esteemed Mr. Cuffe's home for a robbery. Upon seeing the intruder there is no doubt that Mr. Cuffe fought valiantly but somehow the violent muggle wrenched the wand out of his hand and then murdered the noble pureblood in cold blood. Although no items are yet said to be missing from the home, it is likely the muggle ran off due to fear before he could steal any items.

Strangely there were two coins placed upon the closed eyes of the deceased; authorities are investigating muggle murder rites.

_Read more reflection on Mr. Banabas Cuffe's time as editor since 1980 on page 2, further story on the investigation on pages 3-4, Mr. Banabas Cuffe's obituary on pages 6-7 and an In Memoriam on pages 8-10._  
*******

"Great Merlin's beard!" Ron exclaimed after Hermione finished reading the story aloud at breakfast that morning. "Who would have thought with Death Eaters about that some muggle would off a wizard?"

"My Gran's talked about him. Said he was a filthy wanker who liked his women with carpet burns and his news as vapid as his latest whore," Neville piped up. "Though I'm not really sure what she meant about carpet burns…" he trailed off in confusion

"Oh my god, Neville, that's awful," Hermione opined with a scrunched up face of disgust at the lewd characterization of the deceased.

"Neville's got a point. The Daily Prophet has only been a hindrance in this war and doesn't seem to care about lying – you _know_the fault lies at the man in the top," Harry pointed out.

"Yeah, thanks to the Daily Prophet my ma didn't believe Voldemort was back last year – and neither did I 'till I finally came to believe ya," Seamus said to Harry with a bit of a sheepish look. "Bunch of rubbish, the Prophet is."

"Well, I still think it's rather a pity," Hermione sighed. "But yes, the silver lining is that hopefully the Prophet will get better."

Harry stole a glance at the Staff Table just then and caught the eyes of the McManus brothers. They threw a sly wink in his direction and he just smiled secretly in return.

* * *

Death was like an old friend to Harry Potter. He had entered Harry's life at a young age and had always existed in his peripheral vision. Harry's parents, Cedric, Sirius…they had all not only been taken from him but taken from him within his very presence. Sometimes it felt that Harry was Death himself; if a person was smart enough to avoid him they were lucky enough to live.

Therefore, the transition from passive participant in the act of death to an active participant was not a huge stretch.

Days and nights spent in the presence of the McManus twins led Harry to discuss and explore deeper philosophical questions regarding life and death. He knows his others friends likely wouldn't understand – certainly not Hermione – but now Harry understand that the evil in the world wasn't always meant to be here. Sin was a stain upon the world, marking each of them, yet only the weakest embraced it. Their sins were the surging waters of the tide, rising without little notice until it was too late and the land was flooded with their sin.

Harry never knew much about religion (the Dursley's locked him in the cupboard when they went to church on Easter and Christmas) but he was learning a great deal from the professors. Although sin was evil and technically it was a sin to murder, it was a greater sin to allow evil to be nurtured in society by turning a blind eye. The McManus twins professed to be akin to shepherds who were charged with exterminating those who commit evil and make all of humanity suffer. Harry _got_that. He was filled with rage after Sirius' death and tired of so many allowing evil to spread – something had to be done.

And they were doing it. Barnabas Cuffe was just the beginning.

They were sitting now in the McManus' office creating a verbal list of targets. The conversation was running smoothly until Harry brought up one name.

"Harry, are you fucking mad? That person can't be on the list," Murphy scoffed.

"Yeah, Harry. We've got a code you know. Women and children are not allowed," Connor added in a sympathetic tone.

"But…but she's bloody wicked! I told you everything she did to us – and me! – last year. Wanting to use unforgiveables, torture, and she _hates_anyone and anything that's not a pureblood. She's sadistic!" Harry argued.

The brothers sighed and looked at each other. "Umbridge sounds like a fucking cunt," Murphy agreed. "But she's still a woman."

Harry rolled his eyes. "That woman is evil and you know it! Come on. Shouldn't we be equal-opportunity killers? Shouldn't all evil be purged?"

Again the brothers sighed but this time they were silent for a while. After a stretch of time they looked at each and then nodded. "Fine. Let's take the bitch out," Connor stated.

* * *

Finding Delores Umbridge's home wasn't very easy; the woman was almost as paranoid as Mad-Eye Moody. However, it did amuse Harry to no end that she was as far away from a patch of green grass and the woods as possible (no doubt the Centaur attack this past summer scared her shitless). Her flat was located at the top of building in downtown London; it featured large windows and the peculiar scent of catnip.

Murphy sneezed as they hovered, invisible, outside her window on brooms. "Fuckin' A! I hate cats."

Connor chuckled. "Good thing Rocco isn't here – mate didn't have the best track record with felines, did he?"

They both laughed at that and then, abruptly, became silent and thoughtful. Each made the sign of the cross and Harry was reminded that Rocco was their friend who was murdered back in America. In honor, Harry kissed his own Celtic cross necklace and made the sign of the cross as well.

"Oh David Yaxley!" Harry heard Umbridge through the barely open window giggle in that aggravating girlish manner of hers. "You really are quite the comedian!"

A low chuckle met their ears; the three of them were careful to hide against the walls. "Really Delores, what was I expected to do? Those filthy muggles had the nerve to throw their baseball into my yard." They both laughed and Harry felt his insides grow cold.

"You know Delores," the man named Yaxley began in a smooth voice. "While they do say terrible things about him, you cannot say that the Dark Lord doesn't have it right when it comes to muggles and their filth."

There was silence at his blunt statement. Then, "Why I have been thinking about that, my dear David. After I was brutally mauled by those beasts in the Forbidden Forest, brought there by that damned Harry Potter and his mudblood friend, I have begun to think about the Dark Lord in a different light."

Harry's lip curled into a silent snarl as he gripped his gun tightly.

Yaxley made a clucking noise with his tongue. "Dreadful what happened to you, Delores. Under the Dark Lord's rule those beasts would be caged like the animals they are."

"Oh yes, I would like to see those blasted centaurs caged!" Umbridge said with keen excitement.

Yaxley chuckled softly. "By beasts I meant the mudbloods."

Umbridge let out another high-pitched giggle. "Oh David, you are too much!" Then her voice sobered up and the darkness that laid within her revealed itself. "I would like that very much."

"I know it grows late, but perhaps we may do dinner again my dear?" Yaxley requested in an easy tone.

"Oh yes! I would like that very much!"

"Goodnight, Delores."

"Goodnight, David."

There was the sound of the fireplace flaring as Yaxley left via floo and the two and a half men on broomsticks stared at each other in dark contemplation.

"I _told_you she was evil. Now she even wants to join Voldemort," Harry pointed out.

"Aye," the brothers agreed solemnly.

"We should look for this Yaxley fellow too. I wouldn't be surprised if he was another fellow within the Ministry that was on Voldemort's side," Connor commented.

"Well…we could always ask Delores to give us names," Harry said with an innocent smile.

The brothers shrugged. "We'll let you take lead on this one, Harry."

Pleased that he would finally be able to make the streets safe from Umbridge's nasty acts, Harry pried open the window and slipped in. Umbridge's penthouse was plush and full of expensive furniture. Several cats began yowling at their entrance and Umbridge raced into the room with her wand drawn.

"What is it, my pretties?" she asked with a note of worry.

Harry, who had been hiding behind the door she entered, slipped out and yanked her wrist. Her wand dropped and he crushed it underneath the heel of his foot. "Merlin's Beard! What is going on?" she screamed as the McManus twins approached her. Harry, who was holding her from behind, shoved her onto the bed. Upon seeing him a malicious expression took over her face. "_You_! What are you doing here you filthy orphaned half-blood?"

"My mother was a witch, thank you," Harry snapped irritably.

Umbridge let out a scathing laugh. "Please. She was a mudblood, not a real witch."

Harry couldn't help himself – he slapped her.

"How dare you?" she exclaimed.

"Oh, I dare," Harry responded with his hands curled into fists.

"Harry, Harry," Connor said in a soothing tone as he laid his hand on Harry's shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, Harry nodded. He needed to keep his cool.

"Wait…I know you! You're those filthy squib professors that Dumbledore hired!" Umbridge sneered as she looked the brothers over. "Your mother is a worthless squib and I couldn't believe Dumbledore was stupid enough to hire you."

This time it was Murphy that slapped her, while Connor looked like he was seriously contemplating it. "No one talks 'bout our ma, ya withered-up old maid."

Connor brought his rope out. "Now, we've got some fucking questions."

"And we're going to get some fucking answers," Harry added as Connor began tying the woman up.

"No!" Umbridge struggled against the rope. "Get them my pretties! Get them!" she screeched.

"What?" Murphy asked as he glanced at his partners in puzzlement.

Suddenly it was raining cats. Dozens of poofy white cats, tabbies, black cats, Siamese cats, and others were attacking the brothers and Harry like some feline version of Alfred Hitchcock's _The Birds_. Tabbies tore their clothing and kittens kicked their privates.

"What the fucking fuck?" Connor swore as he tore off one cat.

"Fucking fuck, fuck!" Murphy shouted as he threw another cat into the wall while Umbridge cackled wildly.

One cat knocked off Harry's glasses and then gouged his nose. "Fucking cocksucking motherfuckers!" Harry swore. He raised his gun and shot off several rounds; rounds that were quiet thanks to the silencers.

"No! Don't hurt my pretties!" Umbridge shouted in horror as cat guts exploded onto her face.

"Good fuckin' idea, Harry," Murphy grunted as he began shooting the cats as well.

By the end of the massacre Umbridge was crying and most of the cats were dead – several Harry had imprisoned under a laundry basket. "Now, we want the names of all the corrupt Ministry officials Delores, or the remaining cats get it," Harry ordered as he waved the gun in her face.

Then he bent down to her level and smiled sweetly. "And remember – we mustn't tell lies."

**To Be Continued…**

A/N:  
This segment of "20 DADA…" was already near 7,000 words and I'm not even done yet so I decided to split it into two parts (I think reading over 5,000 words on a computer screen at once – since there's no way to 'bookmark' where you left off – is tedious so I tend to cut off chapters at that point).

The second half will be up soon – I'm basically in love with this idea if you couldn't tell and just had to run with it for longer than I do with most professors ;)

Please leave a review!

_References_:  
*_(nevermind the fact that all of his former DADA professors had tried to kill him, on purpose or accident, at some point thus far made him rather skittish)_ - Quirrel tried to kill him due to Voldemort's possession, Gilderoy was an idiot that almost got them killed or hurt with his attempted, Lupin tried to kill Harry when he was a werewolf, fake Mad-Eye tried to kill him, and Umbridge tortured and wanted to perform an Unspeakable on him.  
*_"Now we all must fear evil men But there is another kind of evil which we must fear most, and that is the indifference of good men_"—Boondock Saints quote (the priest in the opening sequence)  
*Banabas Cuffe: .com/wiki/Barnabas_Cuffe  
*Betty Braithwait: Daily Prophet author who is fond of Rita Skeeter .com/`wiki/Betty_Braithwaite  
* two and a half men—A subtle nod to Charlie Sheen's failed show (thank goodness, it certainly wasn't funny!)  
*The Birds: .org/wiki/The_Birds_(film)


	12. Professors Connor and Murphy McManus 2

Professors Connor & Murphy McManus – Part 2

* * *

When Delores Umbridge didn't show up to work the next day a co-worker checked in on her at home and found her body. Kingsley Shacklebolt and his new partner Nymphadora Tonks were quickly on the scene. Since the preliminary report indicated that Umbridge's murder was conducted in a similar manner to the former Editor-In-Chief of the Prophet – Kingsley's assignment – their new supervisor Pius Thicknesse had ordered them to this crime scene.

Kingsley missed their former Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement (MLE). Amelia Bones had been one of the greatest witches of their day and her murder by Voldemort this past summer was most upsetting. Pius was an alright bloke but Amelia had been a great leader and a mentor to him. It was Kingsley's hope that through his work in the Order of the Phoenix he could avenge her somehow.

The penthouse was a mess. Sprays of blood and tissue matter lined the walls and in the center of the room was Delores Umbridge lying on her back with bronze knuts placed over her eyes – making her appear more serene in death than she ever had been in life.

Some upper Ministry officials would beg to differ but Kingsley knew that Umbridge was a troll. He had been there last year when she had Cornelius Fudge attempt to capture Dumbledore before she took over Hogwarts. The woman was wicked and certainly a few Knuts short of a Galleon.

Regardless, it was up to him and Tonks to determine who her murderer was. They walked up to three members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad: Stanley Shunpike, Sr, Tobias Nott (a cousin of the known Death Eater Theodore Nott, Sr who was currently in Azkaban), and Morpheus 'Mo' Pennybacker, a new recruit that was even younger than Tonks. The MLE Squad handled day to day criminal offenses while Aurors like Kingsley and Tonks dealt with high profile cases and dark wizards.

"Seems to me like we got some muggle serial killers on our hands," Nott commented as he observed the body.

"Not to mention someone who _really_fucking hates cats," Tonks observed dryly as she glanced around in distaste.

"But if they're muggles then why is it both Cuffe and Umbridge had knuts placed over their eyes instead of some muggle coin?" Kingsley questioned.

"Well that's easy. They ransacked the house and found the coins here," Pennybacker pointed out.

"Really? Then why, besides the blood and gore, does the penthouse appear untouched?" Kingsley questioned wryly.

"Well that's easy," Pennybacker rolled his eyes. "Haven't you ever seen a muggle documentary? There's this one that shows an agent lowering himself into a warded room using rope – muggles aren't magical but they're tricky bastards"

Tonks let out a laugh that was quickly covered with a cough.

"Something funny?" Kingsley rumbled in his deep voice.

"I think Mo is talking about a muggle movie called _Mission Impossible_," Tonks grinned. "Certainly isn't a sodding documentary."

"Oh, sorry I can't know all about muggles like you since I'm a pureblood," Pennybacker rolled his eyes. It was well known that Tonks' father, Ted, was a muggle-born.

"Watch it, Pennybacker," Kingsley warned as he slightly edged himself between his partner and the little upstart; Tonk's typical pink hair turned red as the metamorphmagus glared angrily at the squad member. "Best to play it nice or Tonks may take on your appearance – and then walk down Diagon Alley wearing women's lingerie."

Pennybacker glared while the others snorted in amusement.

"Now, let's figure out why wizards and witches are being murdered execution-style by guns," Kingsley moved on.

"Shacklebolt, it's clearly a coincidence," Nott scoffed.

"Or it could mean that muggles are finally coming after us like they did during the Middle Ages," Pennybacker pointed out.

Kingsley's sharp eyes roved over the room. He began walking to the window that was left ajar. "I assume this was the entry point for our suspects?"

"Yes," Shunpike confirmed.

Gazing out at the five-story drop, Kingsley frowned. "Seems like a bit high for a muggle to climb up just for a murder and attempted robbery." Then a patch of sunlight glinted over something bright caught in a crack of wood. Bending down Kingsley observed it more closely. "That is, unless it is a wizard behind this."

Kingsley picked up the golden strand of straw between his fingers. "Why climb up when you can fly?" he muttered softly as his thoughts turned to broomsticks.

* * *

*************  
****THE DAILY PROPHET****  
****October 20, 1996**

**MUGGLE MURDERER STRIKES AGAIN! **  
_by Betty Braithwaite_

The series of murders in the wizarding world have continued with their newest victim Albert Runcorn. Mr. Runcorn was an employee within the Ministry of Magic's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Like the former victims he was also murdered with a muggle weapon called a 'gun' that shot him three times to the back of the head. In addition, coins were placed over his eyes after his death.

A source within the Ministry believes that a muggle serial killer is on the loose and wants to kill all witches and wizards, as they did during the Middle Ages. Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt denied this and made a statement to the press.

"The investigation is on-going however I believe that there is a possibility that a wizard or witch may be behind this – and perhaps even more than one. We are working ardently on this case and will protect the public from these beasts. Until the suspect or suspects are captured we recommend that citizens enhance their house wards and practice the basics of defensive spells."

Mr. Runcorn joins the long list of victims that also include beloved former Daily Prophet Editor-In-Chief Barnabas Cuffe, sweet and docile Ministry official Delores Umbridge, well-respected Ministry official David Yaxley, and junior Ministry official Thorfinn Rowle.

_Read Mr. Runcorn's obituary on page 8, 'Muggle Weapons: Would Any Self-Respecting Wizard Use One? No.', an editorial on page 7, 'Kingsley Shacklebolt: Accomplished Auror or Muttering Madman?' on page 3, and 'Muggles and the Dangers They Pose', on page 4._  
*******

Harry groaned after Hermione finished reading the article. "I would have thought that with a new editor the Prophet wouldn't be so damn biased," he muttered as he stabbed his sausage with a vengeance.

"As much as we may not like it, change doesn't occur overnight in the wizarding world," Hermione sighed. "Besides, it's likely the owner of the Prophet that's behind their bias, anyways. The old editor certainly pushed for it but the Prophet has been conservative for years."

"Never would have thought I'd say this, but I wish everyone would just read the Quibbler," Ron commented with a wry grin.

Neville laughed. "Maybe if the Prophet promises to do the occasional story on the Crumple-Horned Snorcack Luna's dad would take the open editor position," he smiled.

"Who is the owner, Hermione?" Harry inquired in a careless tone.

"Hmm. I believe it is Rowland Ruthers," she answered. "It's been in the Ruthers family for years."

"Hmm, too bad he's not retired," Harry commented.

"Yes, well the gossip mills indicate otherwise. His son Raymond Ruthers is quite liberal in his views and much unlike his conservative family. I heard Rowland is waiting to see what Raymond's son Henry turns out like, just in case he can hand the company over to his young nephew," Hermione explained matter-of-factly before sipping on her pumpkin juice.

"Hmm." Harry would have to tell the brothers about this.

* * *

The 'Muggle Murderer' struck again.

Since Runcorn's death there had been Rowland Ruthers, owner of the Daily Prophet, Leopold Selwyn, an employee in the Department of Mysteries, and siblings Alector and Amycus Carrow, who owned a shop in Knockturn Alley.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was getting his ass handed to him by Rufus Scrimgeour, the new Minister of Magic since the summer. Rufus had a mane like a lion and certainly roared like one; he was incensed that there was a serial killer on the loose and that many of the victims were Ministry officials.

Of course, Kingsley and Tonks were quick to point out that almost all of the victims were linked to Voldemort – and if several expressly were not they were certainly not good people.

Rufus wasn't an idiot – he suspected these things as well. But as a publicity thing, this was _not_what the wizarding world needed – not only a crazed dark lord but a crazed serial killer as well. Therefore, he was always on Kingsley's case about catching the suspects.

Although…sometimes Kingsley just wanted to tell Rufus to kiss his black ass. As far as he and some of the other Order members –Tonks included – were concerned, the suspects weren't precisely killers but more of vigilantes…something that wasn't entirely unwelcome in a war; especially considering the fact that all Order members were technically vigilantes. Dumbledore, to no surprise, was ill at ease about such ruthless murders but even he admitted that he wanted to recruit the suspects to the Order.

But today's murder was one that was certainly not connected to Voldemort, although the man was a bloody idiot. Kingsley stared at the obese body as he sought to find a clue, but the suspects didn't even leave a hair behind.

"Fuck. First Cornelius gets canned and then he gets shot. Sucks to be him," Tonks commented as she swept the room for spell residuals; so far no crime scenes showed any sign of magic from the suspects but they always checked just in case. This was a newer method of investigation that was introduced to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement by Tonks shortly after her training was completed; apparently she had been experimenting since watching some muggle crime show. It was a new form of investigation and not one that everyone yet approved of, but Kingsley was eager to have her utilize it for this case.

"It seems our vigilantes are intent on making folks pay for their crimes," Kingsley mumbled as he fingered the bronze coins that had been placed over Fudge's eyes.

"Seems a bit intense though, don't it?" Tonks asked, her nose scrunched up in a mix of disdain and confusion. "Sure, he was a fucking idiot, but he never intended for anyone to get hurt."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," Kingsley quoted.

Tonks shrugged and gestured past the library door. "It appears that our suspects traveled through the back door. It was not forced open nor was a charm used on it."

Kingsley rolled his eyes. "The fool laid so many magical wards on this that he forgot to lock his back door."

"Indeed." Tonks' lips twisted into a wry smile. "There is a tunnel leading from the backyard past the wards. I am guessing that Fudge's wards called for overhead and aboveground protection only, the fool." She rolled her eyes. "Clearly this isn't a muggle's work. They sensed the wards and developed a non-magical method to bypass them; it is known that we have the capability of picking up magical signatures as long as we find the crime scene within a few hours of the crime. A signature is like a fingerprint – once we have it we can match it up to suspects."

"So they entered through the back door and found Fudge here in his study." Kingsley's eyes traveled over the knocked over bookcase and discarded text on the floor next to the green upholstered chair. "They must have surprised Fudge and taken his wand," he added as he spotted the broken wand on the tan carpet next to the chair. "Judging by the ligament marks on his wrists he was bound for some time. But why?"

Tonks bent down next to the body and across from Kingsley. "Most of the victims, besides Umbridge and Yaxley, were just killed. Yet the suspects wanted to question these individuals – or speak to them at least. Peculiar. What on earth do these three have in common?"

"Besides being bad guys?" Kingsley countered with a raised brow.

"Hmm." Tonks waved her wand over Fudge and performed a diagnostic spell. The results made her gasp as she looked at Kingsley in alarm. "They've fouled something up this time. One of them performed a spell."

"What kind of spell?" Kingsley asked in interest.

Tonks waved her wand and a box – almost like a muggle television – popped up above Fudge's head. Faded images passed over the 'screen': of Fudge proclaiming that Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore were nutters and that Voldemort wasn't back, then Fudge brokering an agreement to push through new laws for Rowland Ruthers in exchange for the Daily Prophet running articles pronouncing how insane Potter and Dumbledore were, then Fudge taking donations – or bribes – from numerous former Death Eaters.

"Merlin's fuckin' beard!" Tonks swore in a soft voice.

"The suspects made Fudge view his own memories." Kingsley continued to watch the flood of images in awe. They turned to reading reports of muggle and wizarding deaths at the hands of Voldemort – and Fudge just dismissing the news.

"They wanted him well aware why he deserved to die."

"Collect the magical signature and we'll run it against others we have," Kingsley told his partner. "I doubt we'll have it on file since we only possess recent criminals and these vigilantes likely are not in that category, but something may turn up."

"Bollocks. Watching all this makes me feel even less bad about Fudge dying. I almost think that if we do find the people who did this we _definitely_need to hide them in the Order."

_The Order_. Kingsley's head snapped to Tonks but she was already looking down and collecting the evidence. As he watched further memories splash across the memory screen he couldn't help but wonder if maybe the culprits were already within the Order.

Then, when he saw the image of Fudge demanding the Sirius Black needed to be Kissed and that he refused to believe that Sirius was innocent, Kingsley's list of possible suspects began to shorten.

After all, few people would be angry about Sirius Black being mistreated.

* * *

Harry Potter crept cautiously out of the passageway and past the one-eyed witch statue. The Marauder's Map showed that he and the professors were the only ones in the area but one could never be too careful. With a motion of his hand the professors followed and they walked past the stairwell to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom that was nearby. This particular passageway was their golden ticket to exiting and arriving in Hogwarts secretly. It led to the cellar of Honeydukes and no one knew about it except for Ron, Hermione, and George and Fred Weasley.

"Good work tonight, Harry," Connor grinned.

"Aye," Murphy agreed with a nod.

Harry smiled in satisfaction. The approval of the brothers had begun to matter a great deal to him and he was pleased to have their approval. They had yet to teach him their family prayer but he hoped to learn it someday.

"Thanks." He glanced at the map again. "Snape's patrolling in Ravenclaw Tower so I better head back before he heads towards Gryffindor."

They nodded and exchanged their good-byes. Harry could see on his map that his roommates Ron, Neville, Seamus, and Dean were all in bed and the Common Room was empty so he should be in the clear – after all it was three in the morning.

As expected, his bedroom was dark when he entered. Quietly he slipped off his shoes and slid into bed, only then breathing a sigh of relief.

"Oi! Where've you been?" he heard Ron shout as he heard the movement of blankets being thrown off the other beds. Suddenly the lights were on and Ron, Neville, Seamus, and Dean were all staring at him expectantly with crossed arms.

"Er, what's going on?" Harry rubbed his eyes sleepily.

"Harry, we know you've been coming back late a lot of nights this past month. We want to know what you're up to," Neville explained in a calm tone.

Harry yawned. "I dunno what you guys are talking about."

Ron threw a pillow at him and Seamus followed suit. "Come off it Harry! Are you doing DA stuff? We were with you all last year and we're mad that you're suddenly leaving us out of the loop."

Sighing, the corner of his lips drooped. Ron was right. He felt really guilty about leaving his friends out. After all, they had helped him start Dumbledore's Army and here he was working on stuff without them. Still…he couldn't tell them that _he_was one of the 'Muggle Murderers'.

"If you're working on ways to take down Voldemort, I want in," Dean stated with a steely gaze. "After what the Death Eaters did to my mom…" He trailed off and his eye twitched. "I want to help kill them."

"My cousins are teaching us good spells and we can be helpful," Seamus said. "Face it, we're loads better now than we were in DA last year. Deadly, even."

The rise of testosterone in the room was almost stifling. He could see in each of their eyes that his friends wanted to help take down Voldemort's people…but he wasn't sure if they were prepared to go all the way like he was. Besides, the secret was truly the McManus' and it wasn't Harry's to tell.

"It's nothing, really guys," Harry attempted to reassure them as he squirmed slightly in his bed.

"Harry!" Ron called out in a rather hurt tone.

Harry flinched and his shoulders fell. "Listen, I'm not allowed to talk about it. If I could, I would."

The four of them gazed at him with skeptical eyes. Feeling cornered, Harry just shot them an apologetic look and pulled the covers over his head. After a while the lights went out and he breathed a sigh of relief.

* * *

*************  
****THE DAILY PROPHET****  
****October 26, 1996**

**MUGGLE WEAPONS SHOPS SET ABLAZE**  
_by Betty Braithwaite_

A dozen Dark Marks could be seen in the skies yesterday.

Between the hours of three o'clock in the afternoon and six o'clock in the evening a dozen muggle shops that sell weapons, including guns, exploded into flames. Killed in the fiery infernos were thirty-six muggles. Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt confirmed that the _Fiendfyre Curse_, a known unstable and violent fire spell, were used.

Opinions on the reasons behind the arson attacks differ.

"That filthy coward Lord Voldemort is just angry that his secret Death Eaters have been getting put to death like dogs," Augusta Longbottom stated during tea in Diagon Alley.

"You ask me, I believe that someone out there is just trying to protect us. The muggles are taking to arms and we're just supposed to sit back? Nonsense! Those dreadful weapon shops should be put out of business!" Patrick Parkinson stated from his office at the Ministry of Magic.

For more on this story head to page two.  
*******

* * *

Kingsley was laughing in at his desk as he observed Tonks showing off for the other aurors. Downtime in their office usually resulted in some of the folks requesting their favorite transformations of Tonks; right now she was doing her infamous pig snout.

"Do Mad-Eye!" Kingsley joked with a grin.

The others laughed and Tonks shook her head with a horrified look. "No _way_! Mad-Eye knows everything! If it got back to him he'd curse me good and proper!"

Amidst their laughter a silvery cougar patronus danced into their office. "Quiet everyone!" Kingsley ordered. Patronuses were a method of emergency communication with their office.

"_Break in at the Longbottom Manor. Reports of a disturbance and the Dark Mark._" The cougar dissipated and the aurors looked at each other in shock.

"Let's go!" Kingsley commanded. He knew that Augusta was asking for it when she gave that quote to the _Prophet_…he had just hoped the wily old witch would be able to care for herself.

When they got to the manor they found the Dark Mark shining in the sky just as the patronus reported. "Wands out!" Kingsley stated in his deep voice. Their team of six aurors spread out to circle the house. Prepared for anything they made their way silently into the house, concerned how they would find the elderly woman's body.

A crash sounded when he and Tonks walked into the kitchen. "Dammit Tonks!" Kingsley chastised in a quiet voice as his clumsy partner gave him a sheepish smile.

"What in the bloody hell are you fools doing? Breaking everything in my house?" a cantankerous voice called.

Sharing a look of shock, he and Tonks turned to the doorway that led into the rest of the house. Standing before them was Augusta Longbottom with her peacock-feathered hat askew and her elegant house dress rumpled.

"Er, my apologies Ms. Longbottom. We heard that there was a disturbance," Kingsley informed her in confusion. "I am Auror Shacklebolt and this is Auror Tonks."

Augusta snorted. "About damn time. I am worried about the blood staining my carpet. Follow me." She turned around and began leading them through the house.

"Blood?" Tonks inquired.

Nodding, Augusta pointed into the living room. "Are you deaf girl? I said blood."

Kingsley's eyes widened and he sent a patronus to inform his fellow aurors. "What happened?" he asked as he eyed the room. There were five men lying dead with bullet wounds.

"Pompous bastards thought they could break in and kill me for insulting them," August sniffed. "Of course, they were in for a rude surprise since I am rather spry for an old maid. Of course," she frowned, "they did get the best of me after I knocked out three of them. I was bound to my coffee table when these three men in ski masks broke in and killed them all!"

He shared a look with Tonks. "You mean the serial killers were in your home, ma'am?"

"Serial killers? Ha!" she scoffed. "These boys are the best thing to happen to the wizarding world! They're ridding the streets of evil – and tonight saved my life!"

Kingsley couldn't argue with her on that. Instead he took her statement and then began investigating the manor for clues. Good guys or not, these killers needed to be found because at the end of the day he didn't know if he could trust them. The search of the manor focused on the living room and the three intruders' point of entry – the window. There Kingsley found a small particle of orange candy scraped on the windowsill. Sniffing it, he almost retched in disgust.

"Found something, Tonks," he grimaced.

"Wotcher?"

He handed her the candy and she took an experimental sniff. "Bloody hell that's disgusting! What is this, a vomit jelly bean?"

Kingsley nodded. "There's some dirt embedded in it; I think this was trapped in their shoes."

"Hmm, a clue is good but it's not much of one," Tonks frowned. "Lots of folks eat Botts' Beans."

He nodded. "True. But at least it's a start. Let's head to Honeydukes tomorrow. Since they're the only sellers then our killers must have been in there at some point."

"Maybe," Tonks added critically.

"Maybe," Kingsley agreed with a shrug.

* * *

"Man, that was fucking awesome!" Harry Potter cheered as he held up his mug of butterbeer.

Connor clanked his glass against Harry's and Murphy's. "Cheers, mates!"

The three of them were in a private room on the second floor of the Three Broomsticks celebrating their work at the Longbottom's last night. Today was a Hogsmeade weekend for Hogwarts and the three had decided to steal a moment together. They spent the next thirty minutes recounting their night while drinking heartily and eating jelly beans. After they paid their tab to Rosmerta they walked down the steps and almost bumped into Kingsley Shacklebolt and Tonks.

"Oh, hey Kingsley! Hey Tonks!" Harry greeted cheerfully. "How are you?"

Kingsley nodded solemnly and Tonks smiled and waved. "We're just here on official Ministry business," she informed them. "Since this is a Hogsmeade weekend we want to make sure the village is extra safe with all the students running around.

Connor edged himself slightly forward. "Excuse me, I don't believe we've met, lass," he said with a charming lopsided smile. "I'm Connor McManus, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. And you are…?"

"Tonks," she answered with a blush as Connor took her extended hand and kissed the back of it.

Bumping into his brother's side, Murphy grinned at Tonks. "And I'm Murphy McManus, the _othe r_DADA professor – and the brother who got all the looks in this family."

Tonks blushed doubly when Murphy kissed her hand as well.

"Oh, you probably don't want Murph near ya since he just got done eating those jelly beans," Connor smirked.

"Jelly beans?" Kingsley inquired as his eyes traveled over the brothers. "Are you fans of the Every-Flavor-Beans?"

Harry snickered. "Connor bet Murphy five Galleons that he couldn't eat a bag full of vomit ones. It's taken him almost a day but he finally finished it off."

Connor laughed but Murphy bumped his shoulder against him and Harry. "Shad up," he grimaced as Tonks gave him an alarmed look. "They're really not that bad. And I brushed my teeth!" he hurriedly explained.

"Vomit ones?" Tonks squeaked; even Kingsley gave them a concerned look.

"Er, yeah," Harry smiled.

"Tonks," Connor interjected smoothly. "You know, I'm rather new to the area. I would love to have your help in showing me around Britain?"

Tonks exchanged a look with Kingsley. "Ah, sure." She waved her wand and a piece of parchment appeared in Connor's hands. "This is my address. Owl me," she smiled.

"I will do just that," Connor said with a pleased smile.

"Right then. Well, we must be off," Kingsley said. "Nice meeting you both. Harry, take care."

* * *

Tonks left for her date with Connor McManus a couple days later feeling a mix of emotions. Evidence was starting to point to the McManus twins and Harry Potter and Kingsley wanted Tonks to 'personally' investigate Connor. Thus far the strand of broom hair left at Umbridge's was discovered to come from a Firebolt – Harry's broom – and the jelly bean at the Longbottom's was vomit flavored – what Murphy had been eating over the past day. In addition, Kingsley suspected Harry due to the emphasis on the mistreatment of Sirius Black in Fudge's memories.

Tonks wasn't so sure. All the evidence was circumstantial and wouldn't hold up in the Wizengamot. Frankly, she was hoping it wasn't true – after breaking up with Remus a while back she was finding herself quite attracted to Connor Murphy. After all, her mother hadn't been pleased that Tonks was dating a werewolf – she assumed a serial killer would be less liked.

* * *

A few weeks later Harry, Connor, and Murphy unleashed their biggest attack to date – they broke into Azkaban. The dementors were difficult to deal with but each of them shone with a holy light as they perservered under the depressing environment. Over a dozen Death Eaters were killed – including Lucius Malfoy. Since the prison was a major facility they knew they didn't have much time to get out of there before the aurors came. However, they never expected the following people to show up.

A crack of lightning streaked through the ground and two clouds of black smoke barreled into the front of the prison yard. Standing triumphantly before them were Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange.

"HOW DARE YOU KILL MY FOLLOWERS, MUGGLES!" Voldemort screeched as he threw a _crucio_in Murphy's direction. Murphy rolled out of the way and Connor shot Voldemort five times in the torso. The Dark Lord immediately crumpled and Bellatrix knelt at his side.

"My Lord…are you alright?" she whimpered.

"Kill them," Voldemort croaked.

With a furious yell Bellatrix raised her wand but Harry shot point-blank her in the temple. She fell soundlessly to the ground; the three men stared at the sight with a blank face while Voldemort screamed in anguish and anger.

"Hmm. That was rather anti-climatic," Harry commented. He turned to the brothers. "I wish you two had come here sooner. It would have been nice to shoot her last year before she killed Sirius." His lips curled back in anger and then he shot several more rounds into her still body. "There. That felt better."

"Harry Potter, I will bathe in your blood by nightfall," Voldemort swore with a violent gesture.

"Aye, that was rather graphic," Connor commented as he glanced at the others..

"Aye, but not terribly original. Perhaps had he promised to play jump rope with Harry's intestines, then _that_would be original," Murphy added.

Voldemort sputtered (and several drops of blood flew from his mouth) and raised his wand. "Now you will–"

But he didn't finish. Kingsley and Tonks suddenly arrived; the latter physically retrieving Voldemort's wand and the former putting Voldemort in an enhanced Body-Bind Curse.

"Your days are over, Voldemort. Now it is time for you to stand trial for your crimes," Kingsley informed him before glancing at Harry and the professors. "Other aurors are on their way. I suspect it might be best if you three leave."

"Er…you mean you're just going to let us go?" Harry asked in surprise.

Kingsley nodded gravely. "We know what you three are responsible for the recent deaths. I hope that you are indeed only attacking evil doers?"

The trio exchanged a look. "Aye," Connor answered. "We swear we only kill those who spill the blood of the innocent."

"Then you may go," Kingsley stated as he purposely looked away.

Murphy grabbed Harry's arm. "Come on Connor. Let's apparate."

Connor was too busy staring into Tonks' eyes at the moment; causing Harry and Murphy to sigh in annoyance. "Do ya hate me?"

Tonks bit her lip and looked away. "No," she answered softly. Turning her eyes back to Connor she smiled slightly. "I don't think that would be possible."

Connor grinned and took his brother's hand. "So I'll see you for dinner?"

Blushing, Tonks nodded. "Aye," she grinned cheekily.

*************  
****THE DAILY PROPHET****  
****November 9, 1996**

**YOU-KNOW-WHO IN CUSTODY!****  
****DEATH EATERS MURDERED IN AZKABAN!**  
_by Raymond Ruthers _

You-Know-Who was valiantly apprehended by Aurors Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadore Tonks late last night after a break-in at Azkaban.

Around two o'clock in the morning an alarm went out that three men wearing ski masks broke into Azkaban. The dementors were driven away with several powerful Patronus Charms and twelve convicted Death Eaters were found murdered in their cells. Each victim died from three bullet wounds to the back of their head.

You-Know-Who is currently imprisoned by the Ministry of Magic and will stand trial before the Wizengamot next week for his crimes against the Wizarding Community.  
*******

The Ministry of Magic was bustling with frenzied activity on the last day of Tom Riddle's trial. Reporters from wizarding nations across the world fought for the best spots in Courtroom Ten on Level Ten of the Ministry building while emotional victims and families of victims vied for seats in the courtroom so they could witness Voldemort's sentencing. Magical screens in the lobby displayed the courtroom so those unlucky enough to get into the courtroom could still watch the event. Aurors and members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad patrolled the building and its perimeter. Everyone who entered the building had their wand taken from them and were searched. Every possible security measure had been taken to prevent Voldemort sympathizers from rescuing the former dark lord.

Harry and the professors were fortunate that they had friends within the Ministry that were able to provide them with top secret security information.

They had entered through the special auror entrance thanks to Kingsley and Tonks. Upon discovering that the aurors sympathized with their actions, the trio were quick to establish a partnership. Through the secret entrance they were able to bring their weapons and wands with the into the Ministry. Dressed in jeans, black shirts, and black pea coats, they had their guns hidden in the waistband of their pants and their wands up their sleeves in a holster.

Upon entering the courtroom they found seats near the front (again, thanks to the aurors) and took a seat. Harry subtly caught the eyes of Ron, Dean, Neville, and Seamus and nodded; in response they nodded back. Afterwards Harry surveyed the room. The entire Wizengamot was there with Dumbledore presiding as the Chief Warlock. Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour sat to his right and another fifty witches and wizards stared down at the floor. Voldemort sat in the middle of the courtroom bound by magical chains in a steel chair that gleamed under the torchlight. His red eyes flared like the flames of hell and his thin lips were curled into a savage look. Harry felt some satisfaction at seeing the motherfucker finally getting what he deserved.

Well, almost what he deserved. The Wizengamot had ruled out death as a sentence since they stopped using the Veil hundreds of years ago. The plan was to depower Voldemort and imprison him. Not surprisingly, Harry and the McManuses hated that plan.

"After two months of testimony by victims the Wizengamot have come to a decision on the matter of Tom Riddle, once known as Voldemort," Dumbledore began.

"I will always be known as Voldemort, you frail fool!" Voldemort snarled. "I am more powerful than all of you and deserve your respect!"

"Right…" Dumbledore drawled with a raised brow. "As I was saying, the Wizengamot have ruled that Tom Riddle shall be imprisoned for the remainder of his life."

"You all shall fear me once again! I will break out and make you pay!" Voldemort shouted as he struggled against his chains.

That was their cue. Subtly nodding at his friends, he watched as the four Gryffindors stood in front of the exits. Raising his gun, he and the professors began shouting and quickly disarmed the aurors.

"No one will ever fear you again, Riddle!" Harry shouted as he stalked his prey. "You have committed heinous acts against the world and don't deserve to live."

"And _you_plan on killing me, boy?" Voldemort laughed.

Harry pistol-whipped Voldemort. "Who do you think killed all your precious Death Eaters already, Tommy?" he whispered with a cold smile.

"You people have been chosen to reveal our existence to the world. You will witness what happens here today and you will tell of it afterwards," Murphy shouted to the crowd. Everyone began screaming and heading for the exits but they were stopped by minor hexes that left them unable to open the doors, thanks to the four Gryffindors.

"I'll kill you, Potter," Voldemort promised through gritted teeth.

"No, I don't think so," Harry stated solemnly.

Connor and Murphy leapt onto the left and right side of the Wizengamot benches, respectively.

"We do not ask for your poor or your hungry," Murphy yelled over the screaming.

"We do not want your tired and sick," Connor added.

"It is your corrupt we claim," Murphy stated with a slight snarl.

"It is your evil, who will be sought by us," Connor informed with a gritty look.

"With every breath we shall hunt them down."

"Each day we will spill their blood till it rains down from the skies," Connor declared.

"Do not kill, do not rape, do not steal. These are principles which every man of every faith can embrace."

"These are not polite suggestions. They are codes of behavior and those that ignore them will pay the dearest cost," Connor said as he pointed at Voldemort.

"There are varying degrees of evil. We urge you lesser forms of filth not to push the bounds and cross over into true corruption... into our domain," Murphy suggested with a brilliant gleam in his eyes.

"For if you do, there will come the day when you look behind you and see we three. And on that day you will reap it."

"And we will send you to whatever God you wish."

With their statements over the brother jumped down and met Harry standing behind Voldemort, already pressing his gun against the wizard's head. The brothers stood on each side of Harry and mimicked his movement. In unison they each recited the McManus family prayer – the brothers had finally decided Harry was worthy of it and taught him that morning.

_"And Shepherds we shall be  
For thee, my Lord, for thee.  
Power hath descended forth from Thy hand  
Our feet may swiftly carry out Thy commands.  
So we shall flow a river forth to Thee  
And teeming with souls shall it ever be.  
In Nomeni Patri Et Fili Spiritus Sancti."_

Throughout the prayer Voldemort was shouting threats and then finally begging for his life once he realized what was going to happen.

"I don't want to die!" Voldemort whimpered pitifully.

Harry just grimaced. "Then you never should have been born." Three gunshots went off and Voldemort's body slumped into his chair, a puddle of blood forming at his feet.

* * *

A/N:

This was the *longest* edition to this series. Hmm, perhaps it should have been its own story. Oh well. I hope you liked it!

_References_:  
* Albert Runcorn: Harry took his identity in Book 7; he's a supporter of the Death Eaters  
* Thorfinn Rowle: DE that fought at the Astronomy Tower in Book #6 and attacked the Trio in a café in Book #7  
* Selwyn: First name unknown but a DE who participated in Book #7 attacks  
*Carrows: Evil, evil evil 'professors' in Book #7  
*The McManus brothers dialogue in the last scene is direct from the movie – hey, I can't do it better than Troy Duffy (the writer) did it :) Also, the prayer is from the movie as well.  
*Overall this chapter correlated more with the movie: Kingsley Shacklebolt was 'FBI Agent Smecker' played by William Dafor while Tonks was loosely similar to Julie Benz's character 'FBI Agent Eunice Bloom' from the second movie (loosely because she's a girl and an agent *shrugs* That's it). Neville, Ron, Seamus, and Dean are like the cops who help Smecker and the brothers break into the courtroom at the end of the movie- although Stanley Shunpike, Sr, Tobias Nott, and Morpheus 'Mo' Pennybacker are like the detectives in the beginning of the movie.


	13. Professor Sheldon CooperBig Bang Theory

**Professor Sheldon Cooper (Big Bang Theory)**

A/N:

Thank you to everyone on ffnet who has read or reviewed! It's crazy but somehow this lil collection of ficlets is getting 2k hits a chapter! I'm so glad that people are enjoying this story! :)

This is what happens after a marathon of S1 and S2 of The Big Bang Theory, an excellent CBS sitcom. Also, this was inspired by mmooch's excellent story pairing Sheldon and Buffy! While trying to work on this DADA collection all my muse could think about was Sheldon, so here he is:

* * *

When Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat down for the Welcome Feast of their sixth year they immediately turned their eyes to the Head Table. After experiencing a new DADA teacher every year it was almost like a game to figure out who was new, what their story was, and if they were evil.

"Oh…wow," Harry said in disbelief as his eyes zoned in immediately on the newest face at the table. "He…he's dressed like _Dumbledore_"

"Bloody hell," Ron laughed. "Mate's got an old-fashioned wizard cone of a hat! With," Ron laughed harder, "silver _stars_ on it!"

"And what's with the purple robes?" Harry snickered.

"Boys," Hermione said in a disapproving tone. "At least, as far as we can tell, he doesn't have Voldemort on the back of his head or a magic eyeball and wooden leg. So what if he's got a…" Hermione couldn't refrain from suddenly smiling. "…A _unique_ fashion sense?"

As they laughed, Dumbledore got up and commenced with his annual speech. "Also," he finally said, "I would like to introduce you all to Dr. Sheldon Cooper, the newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I hope that you will make him feel welcome."

There was polite applause as everyone eyed the man, who appeared to only be in his late twenties. Then everyone stared in surprise as the new professor suddenly got up and made his way to Dumbledore's podium.

"Oh Merlin. Another Umbridge," Harry groaned.

There was some conversation between Professor Cooper and Dumbledore before the older man finally stepped away.

"Good evening young wizards and witches, and my fellow professors," Professor Cooper spoke in a clipped voice that reminded Harry of a robot. "I am quite pleased to begin my teaching career here, amongst you magically-inclined persons. Indeed, when I received an owl—" Here Professor Cooper turned his head to the side and let out a short, harsh, yet giddy laugh. "— from Headmaster Dumbledore, I was quite enthused. Although I have yet to find a wand that works for me, I am sure that Ollivander is an inept fool and am busy on creating my own." His lips twisted in a positively devilish smile at that statement.

Dumbledore, having learned better from the Umbridge moment last year, began clapping in an attempt to get Professor Cooper off the stage. The rest of the school followed and Professor Cooper gave them all bewildered looks.

"Now, hold on! Ahem. I have yet to discuss my plans on improving school curriculum, especially since most of my predecessors were reckless or idiots or evil, or just evil reckless idiots. Also, I am shocked by the lack of math in this institution, which is something I plan on implementing. You see, I—"

"—Thank you, Professor," Dumbledore smiled genially as he clapped his hand on Professor Cooper's shoulder. "I would hate to make our students tardy for bed. Perhaps we can go over this later."

"Oh." Professor Cooper cocked his head to the side. "I see. Yes, that is fine," he all but sighed.

"Excellent." Dumbledore turned back to the school. "Let's give Professor Cooper a round of applause!"

Harry, Hermione, and Ron shared a look – this was going to be a very _long_ year.

* * *

The trio was walking to their DADA class when the wizard-hat-wearing Professor Cooper nearly plowed into them as he left his office.

"Excuse me, young students," he commented rather snottily. "You should watch where you are going."

Harry exchanged a look with the others. "Er, sorry professor."

Professor Cooper's eyes narrowed at Harry, examined his forehead, and then widened in surprise. "There, there, it's fine," he stated hastily as his eyes began to gleam with excitement. "Say, you're Harry Potter, famed Boy-Who-Lived, aren't you?"

"Uh, yeah," Harry muttered, happy that the hall was mostly empty at the time.

"How _did_ you do it? Tell me, does your Wizarding World have its own version of the Sword of a Thousand Truths?" Professor Cooper asked eagerly,

"Huh?" Harry asked in confusion after sideways glances at his friends.

"What's that?" Ron asked.

"Oh, it is a marvelous invention used in the World of Warcraft." He hesitated. "Well, more or less."

"World of Warcraft?" Hermione repeated. "That sounds like a dangerous place. Is it a hidden world, like the Wizarding World?"

Professor Cooper laughed; his style of laughter was most odd, Harry decided; short and bark-like almost. "It _is_hidden, in a way." He leaned closer to them. "Most barbarians know not of this hidden world, with its mythical night elves and paladins. Of course," he shrugged, "that is how we prefer it. Wouldn't want any riff-raff, right?" he asked with a grin.

The three of them just nodded and proceeded to follow the professor to class, all the while wondering just what sort of creature this professor was if he came from a world devoted solely to war.

* * *

By next week, thanks to Ron gossiping like a schoolgirl in the Gryffindor Common Room, the entire school knew several key things about the new professor:

1) He was a fierce, battle-hardened warrior from the World of Warcraft recruited by Dumbledore for the purpose of protecting the castle against Voldemort and his minions.

2) Many speculated that he was not human, in fact they believed he was some sort of praying mantis alien/creature _or_that he was a cyborg (thanks to the muggle students familiar with 'Terminator'). Then, of course, there were some who believed he was a hybrid of both ideas.

3) He liked to talk. _A lot._

Of course, the former two items were a bit of an exaggeration from what Professor Cooper had told Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but that was how the Hogwarts gossip chain worked. Regardless, the professor got quite a bit of respectful attention from his students, even if he sometimes talked about defending against the dark arts using laser rays or blaster rifles instead of defensive spells.

"Now, on page twenty of your textbook there is a spell on freezing your opponent," Professor Sheldon stated as he brought out a cage that played host to two black rats. "_Hielo_" he incanted as he flicked his wand in the direction of the rodents. When they didn't freeze, he frowned. "I seem to be having a bit of difficulty with my magic," he mused. A bit of difficulty, however, was a bit of an exaggeration. Thus far the professor had not shown one iota of magical ability. That did not, luckily, detract from the admiration he received from his students.

"That's alright professor. I'm sure the ice spells are much more different in the World of Warcraft than they are here," Rom piped up. Ever since the professor had taught Ron how to play three-person Wizarding Chess, the boy had latched on to him. Ron loved chess almost more than Quidditch, if not more so.

Professor Cooper gave Ron a brilliant smile. "Indeed they are, Mr. Weasley. Why, in that world I occasionally use the spell, known as the 'Ice Block' spell, to encase _myself_in ice, not my opponent."

There was a murmur of interest. "But why would you put yourself in ice?" Hermione inquired.

"A good point, Ms. Granger," the professor admired as his index finger jabbed into the air. "You see, while you are unable to move you are also protected from any spells. It is an excellent tool when fighting in a larger party and you're becoming drained of energy."

"WoW," the class stated in unison as the professor discussed his war experience.

"Indeed!" Professor smiled at their words.

"Could we ever go see this World of Warcraft?" Seamus asked, amid a chorus of agreement at his statement.

Professor Cooper appeared downtrodden and sighed heavily. "To my dismay, Headmaster Dumbledore said that would not be possible here at the castle. Wizarding magic interferes with the ability to enter that world."

"Awww," the class groaned. They all wanted to see of a place that had night elves, paladins, and who knows what else.

"Do you miss your people?" Lavender Brown queried.

Cocking his head to the side, a peculiar look crossed his face. "Not particularly. Wolowitz is just an engineer without a doctorate, so he is expendable. Koothrappali would only stutter since there are so many females around. Although," he mused, "Leonard and Penny had their benefits."

"Were they warriors in the World of Warcraft, too?" Parvati Patil asked with wide eyes as she leaned over her desk.

He appeared thoughtful for a moment. "Well, Penny was a warrior, but in a different world – Conan's World. Wolowitz is a night elf, like myself—"

Either he didn't notice or he didn't care, but the entire class reacted at his statement. Some were shocked, grossed out, and others intrigued.

"W-wait…so _you're_not human? You're a night elf?" Draco sputtered in disgust.

Eyes narrowed, Professor Cooper crossed the room with his spindly legs in mere moments to stare Draco in the face. "Humans," he sniffed, "are not as powerful, in my opinion. Besides," he snorted. "At least I'm not a _dwarf_." He giggled at the ludicrous thought.

The bell rang then and the professor sighed. "Oh darn, and I didn't even get to discuss my plans for building a freeze ray instead of using that silly ice spell!" he lamented.

* * *

A month later Professor Cooper came barreling through the dungeons and into the Potions classroom to retrieve Professor Snape; it was regarding something that Dumbledore needed. Irked by the interruption and the prospect of leaving Professor Cooper alone with his wares, Snape had ordered the other teacher not to touch anything.

Professor Cooper, however, couldn't resist.

"Er, Professor?" Hermione squeaked. "You shouldn't touch that cauldron. Professor Snape is brewing a healing draught at the moment and I don't think anything is supposed to be touched."

"Oh, pish-posh, Ms. Granger," Professor Cooper said with a wave of his hand. "While Professor Snape is of greater-than-average intelligence, he still has some learning to do when it comes to chemistry."

Jaws of every student hit the floor at that insult. Oh, if only Snape could hear him now…

Professor Cooper ignored them all and went about mixing ingredients into the cauldron. By the time Snape arrived the cauldron was beginning to emit a white mist – a color in stark contrast to Snape's red face.

"What _are_you doing?" Snape hissed in a dangerously low voice.

Professor Cooper looked up with a pleased smile. "Professor Snape! I am so glad you're back. I have just finished brewing this new – and improved – healing draught."

"You…interfered…with…my…potion?" Snape rasped.

"Oh, I just dabbled a bit, nothing too serious," Professor Cooper stated humbly, but his glowed with excitement all the same. "I noticed that the brew could use some Echinacea and then I added some extra pinchfuls of Pau d'arco. Now, not only will the healing draught heal wounds but it will last an extra thirty-six hours to help prevent infection, according to my calculations."

All the while the DADA professor spoke, Snape's face just got redder and redder until, at the end of the other's explanation, Snape shouted "GET OUT!"

Affronted by his outburst, Professor Cooper turned his nose upwards and huffed. "_Honestly_. You should be thrilled I enhanced your inferior potion."

Professor Snape just stared his new nemesis down until he finally left. Once he was gone, Snape turned to the class. "Tell _no one_," he sneered.

Once class was over the Gryffindors told _everyone_.

* * *

Two months into the school year the Daily Prophet began reporting more serious crimes committed by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Tensions were running high and several of the students wanted to do something about it – especially when they had a feared battled-hardened warrior. While Professor Cooper taught them some spells from chapter ten, Harry finally got frustrated enough to raise his hand.

Professor Cooper raised one thin eyebrow. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"Voldemort's getting too strong and he needs to die," Harry remarked bluntly. "I don't get it – everyone knows how powerful you are. Why don't you team up with Dumbledore to get him?"

"Me? Get Voldemort?" Professor Cooper all but squeaked. Then his eyes widened slightly as he realized Harry's words. "Everyone knows how powerful I am?" he asked with an air of excitement.

Everyone nodded.

"Hmmm, excellent," the professor mused.

"I mean, there's a prophecy that says I have to kill Voldemort," Harry backpedaled as he remembered that night at the Department of Mysteries. "But you can help, can't you?" After all, Harry did not understand why a fierce night elf wouldn't want to help them kill Voldemort.

"A prophecy?" Professor Cooper snorted. "And you think that means you cannot allow someone else to kill Voldemort?"

"Well, yeah," Harry shrugged.

The young professor laughed loudly. "Oh Harry," he said in a patronizing tone. "How silly. Prophecies are like theories – just because they _could_be true does not mean they are. For example, the Big Bang Theory states that this world was created by…" the professor trailed off as he remembered the ignorance of these young children not exposed to a great deal of math and science "…by atoms exploding, essentially. So it may be true, or it may not."

"But," he said with a gleam in his eye. "A _law_ is different. There is no disputing, for example, the law of gravity." Professor Cooper tossed an apple at Goyle's head, smacking him and making the poor boy let out a cry of surprise. "See? The law of gravity is true. Your prophecy? Just a theory, there is no hard data."

Harry tried to take all that in. "So…it might not have to be me?"

"Exactly!" Professor Sheldon confirmed. Then, with a thoughtful look, he added, "But it still could be." Then a rather nasty smile came over his face. "I believe I have an idea…"

The class leaned forward to listened to the famed warrior. Soon, they were smiling too.

* * *

Malfoy Manor had been either partly blown to pieces using bombs or frozen using Professor Cooper's new patented Freeze Ray Gun several weeks later. Now Voldemort was cornered in the parlor room as Harry Potter advanced with the professor's prized weapon, a 'Klingon Bat'Leth' which resembled a large curved silver blade (frankly Professor Cooper had seemed ill at ease with parting with his weapon but logically concluded that he could not hope both the freeze ray gun and the Klingon Bat'Leth at the same time).

"Harry Potter! You have come to meet your death!" Voldemort exclaimed as he raised his wand.

_ZAP!_ Professor Cooper shot the freeze ray gun at Voldemort's torso and lower body, effectively freezing the man in man and making him harmless.

"Hope you don't mind us _cold calling_ you, Voldy," Harry grinned as he swung the Klingon Bat'Leth from hand to hand.

Professor Cooper sniggered. "Good one, Harry!"

"…How?" was all Voldemort could utter as he looked down at his useless body.

Harry shrugged. "This is what you get for not just messing with the Wizarding World but pissing off the World of Warcraft." And with that Harry swung the Klingon Bat'Leth as hard as he could, looking away as he felt Voldemort's neck slice in two.

For a moment it was just the student and the professor, eyeing their work. Then the professor spoke.

"Well, we certainly gave him the _cold_ shoulder, didn't we?" Professor Cooper asked.

Harry groaned. Ever since the professor had built the freeze ray gun he had the tendency to throw in a related pun every other sentence.

"What?" the professor asked, bewildered. "Don't you catch my _drift_?" He snickered.

Harry rolled his eyes. Sometimes he didn't understand how such a geek could be one of the most brilliant and feared night elves in the World of Warcraft – and now the Wizarding World.

* * *

A/N:

Thanks for reading!

References:  
*.com/Sword_of_a_Thousand_Truths_%28South_Park%29  
* Ever since the professor had taught Ron how to play three-person Wizarding Chess – In one ep Sheldon creates 3-person chess ;)  
*/spell=45438  
*.com/Night_elf  
* Klingon Bat'Leth' - .com/2011/04/01/the-big-bang-theory-season-4-episode-19-recap/


	14. Professor Wile E Coyote

**Professor Wile E. Coyote (Looney Tunes)**

**A/N:**

**Thank you to everyone who has been reading and reviewing! Suggestions are greatly appreciated and I will try to do what I can (I'm not familiar with all universes, of course). This chapter might be the last one for a bit whilst I focus on wrapping up some other stories, like _'Crescent & Spike's Most Excellent Adventure_ (the _'Willow's Thief'_ sequel starring Luna Lovegood and Spike) and _Isn't It Ironic_ (starring Xander and Gabriel the Archangel/Trickster). So, fair warning! :)  
**

* * *

Dumbledore had certainly made an unconventional decision when he appointed their newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. For one, he wasn't exactly human – even if he was human-shaped. Professor Wile E. Coyote had dark brown fur covering his body (except for a streak along his torso, face and inside of his ears, which were tan), two elongated ears, a tail, and a prominent snout. The reason why Harry Potter and the other students knew all of this was because Professor Coyote had vehemently thrown off his wizard's robes that Dumbledore tried to make him wear during the Welcome Feast.

It had certainly taken most of the population aback when the newest professor began walking around in the nude, regardless of his fur. But Dumbledore pointed out the Astronomy professor, the centaur Firenze, as another exception to the rule so people grudgingly accepted it.

He didn't really talk, either. Instead, he used signs or the chalkboard when he absolutely felt the urge to communicate. Needless to say that DADA classes were difficult because of this. However, what made the DADA classes even more difficult was Professor Coyote's insistence that a greater threat than Voldemort existed.

Today he was scribbling on the chalkboard as the classroom of sixth year Gryffindors and Slytherins looked on curiously. By the time he was finished there was a profile sketching of a bird-like creature with a long feathery tail and a neck that stretched on and on. Professor Coyote jabbed the chalkboard harshly with his chalk to make sure he had their attention and then violently slashed an 'x' over the picture. Then, underneath the picture, he wrote:

ROAD RUNNER  
MUST DIE!  
ROAD RUNNER VOLDEMORT

Several gasps echoed through the room. What was this bird-like creature that was greater than Voldemort? That so surely needed to die?

"What does it do?" Hermione Granger inquired.

Professor Coyote held up one finger for time and then furiously erased the chalkboard and began drawing anew. When he was finished there were two pictures. On the left was a looming desert rock with a tunnel passing through it, and the Road Runner was running through the tunnel. In the second picture was that same rock except this time the tunnel appeared impenetrable because an image of Professor Coyote had run smack into it and stars were hovering above his head.

Harry Potter gauged the pictures critically. "Wait…So just why is this Road Runner worst than Voldemort? Voldemort kills people and this Road Runner just was lucky to run through a tunnel."

Professor Coyote grit his teeth and growled before erasing the board and writing again. This time there was a picture of a giant anvil that said "ACME" sitting on the ground with a pair of bird feet sticking out. An arrow pointed to a similar picture, except instead of bird feet there were human feet and the words "VOLDEMORT" next to it.

"Er hold on," Harry spoke up again. "So you're saying if we help you kill this Road Runner you'll be able to kill Voldemort.

Professor Coyote's eyes glowed with happiness and he nodded so hard that his ears flopped back and forth across his face.

"Excuse me," Hermione interjected haughtily. "Voldemort is one of the most feared wizards to ever live. No one has been able to destroy him yet. What makes you that that _you_ can finish him?"

Glaring at the girl, Professor Coyote pulled on a piece of rope that was dangling in front of him. A moment later an anvil with the word "ACME" fell on top of Hermione. The entire class screamed in horror while Harry and Ron began screaming obscenities at the wily coyote.

"You killed her!" they yelled.

The professor gave them a bored look and then began tugging on the rope again. Slowly the anvil rose off of Hermione's prone body and Ron rushed to her side.

"Oh, Hermione!" he said tearfully.

Hermione's eyes blinked open comically and she sat up, much to everyone else's surprise.

Harry looked at their professor in alarm. "How did she survive the anvil?" he asked, aghast.

Professor Coyote rolled his eyes as if he deemed the question to be stupid and then held up a sign: "ANVILS DON'T KILL PEOPLE. PEOPLE KILL PEOPLE."

* * *

A week later several of the Dumbledore's Army members went on a special 'field trip' to the American Southwest desert with Professor Coyote. Harry had decided that if the professor was as good as he seemed, then they may as well help him with that Road Runner fellow so then he'd help them with Voldemort. Of course, that was easier than said because so far the professor's plans had yet to work. They'd already seen him get run over by a truck, fall off a cliff, be thrown by a giant spring into a plateau, and get caught under a rock slide.

"Professor, have you ever thought about using magic to catch the Road Runner?" Harry asked after the professor got done brushing rock dust off of his fur.

Professor Coyote rolled his eyes and held up a sign: I SIGNED AN EXCLUSIVE PRODUCTS DEAL WITH ACME BACK IN 1949.

"Well, _we_ can use magic, right?" Ron asked.

The professor pondered that statement, looked around like he thought someone could be watching, and then smiled widely. The students took that as a sign of approval and then began formulating a plan.

First, Ron tried to use the _petrificus totalus_ spell to free the Road Runner. The only problem was the bird moved so quickly that he couldn't hit it with his wand.

Hermione decided to perform a transfiguration spell on the road to melt the tar in a special way so the Road Runner would get stuck. Instead, he ran past her. Infuriated that he didn't get stuck, she went to inspect the road – only to get smacked in the back by the Road Runner. It turned out he did get sticky tar on his feet but he ran so fast that the tar stretched. Like an elastic band, it threw him backwards and he plowed into Hermione. Unfortunately, this caused the tar to rip off of the Road Runner and stick to Hermione, allowing the bird to run away again.

Seeing his friends fail, Harry was confident that a different approach would work. He summoned his broom and began chasing after the Road Runner.

"BEEP-BEEP!" the Road Runner called out in fear.

Harry began gaining on the incredibly fast creature and his fingers brushed the end of his tail.

"BEEP-BEEP!" the Road Runner yelped as he continued to run.

Harry grinned. The bird was going to be his. And then Voldemort would be next. Harry started laughing at the idea – and unfortunately was so keen on capturing the Road Runner that he didn't realize the Road Runner had led him into a tunnel – except while the bird was able to past through, Harry smacked into it and gained a concussion out of the ordeal.

By this point morale was low and the professor was incredibly irate that his students were failing just as he had. In fact, he was currently throwing a tantrum and stomping his feet, unaware that the rocks underneath him were loose. A moment later he began to slide over the plateau and fell down forty feet.

"Bollocks, he sure is accident prone, isn't he?" Ron commented with a wince.

"I swear, this bird must be some sort of mystical animal," Hermione mused as she thumbed through a book. "No bird can survive this many attacks!"

"Hmm, perhaps we're going about this all wrong," Luna commented as she lay on her back, staring at the clouds. "Perhaps this isn't about _catching_the bird – it's all about the chase."

"Looney Lovegood," Ron scoffed under his breath – earning a sharp elbow in the ribs from Hermione.

"What do you mean, Luna?" Harry asked.

The blond fifth year sat up. "I'll be right back," she promised.

* * *

"It's so _bright _here, my lord," Bellatrix Lestrange commented under the harsh glare of the American desert sun.

Lord Voldemort cackled softly. "Imagine. The most powerful magical beast illuminated for all to see, right out here in the open. Whoever would have thought?"

Bellatrix laughed wickedly and rubbed her hands together. "Indeed, my lord. I am pleased I could learn about this for you."

"Yes, it pays to spy upon those Order members," Voldemort grinned. "Fools. They have no idea that I have left the country to find the illustrious Road Runner. Once I return with the bird the entire world shall crumble before me!"

Giggling like an evil school girl, Bellatrix nodded. "You shall rule over them all!"

They enjoyed a healthy bout of evil laughter until they saw something moving quickly down the American highway. It was moving so fast that its form was covered by a cloud of dust, but they knew it was the Road Runner. The two of them hopped onto their brooms and gave chase to the desert creature along the highway road.

So intent on pursuing the creature that they almost did not notice the upcoming mountain and the tunnel built into it. "Fly low, my lord! There is a tunnel!" Bellatrix shouted.

"I bloody well see it, woman," Voldemort hissed back. Honestly, Bellatrix could be so damned attention-seeking and clingy.

"BEEP-BEEP!" the bird sounded as it sped through the tunnel.

"You're mi—!" Voldemort shouted right before he smacked into the hard surface of the mountain. "It…it's just a painting!" he stated in surprise.

Bellatrix, similarly dazed, just groaned in response.

Suddenly a tall humanoid coyote appeared next to them and held up a sign. 'WHAT'S UP?'

"What's up?" Voldemort read. "What the bloody hell does that mean?" he snapped.

The coyote grinned and held up a sign that said 'YOU' before he pressed a giant red button that was set into the mountain wall. Suddenly the wizard and witch were thrown into the air by a catapult that had been hidden under them. They let out bloodcurdling screams as they flew backwards, and before they could reach for their wand they slammed into a rocky plateau and then fell dozens of feet.

Wheezing from having the wind knocked out of them and groaning in pain from their broken bones, they lay in the fetal position until a familiar voice jarred them out of their misery.

"Nice of you to _drop_ in, Tom."

Voldemort looked up to see Harry Potter and several of his pesky friends smiling confidently. "Potter. I should have known you'd be stupid enough to attack me. Your foolish mistake will be your doom," he croaked as his hand thrust into the pocket of his robes. Finding two objects when there should have been one, he cursed as he realized the impact broke his wand.

"Sorry Tom, but we're not leaving anything to chance this time," Potter informed him.

Eyes narrowed, Voldemort spoke. "What do you mean, Potter?"

"Fee fi fo fum," the bushy-haired girl said with a grim look.

"I smell the blood of an Englishman," the blond witch with big blue eyes said. Her voice was innocent but her smile was certainly not.

"Be he alive, or be he dead," said the red-headed boy with a menacing frown

"I'll grind his bones to make my bread," Potter finished calmly. Then he pulled a bright red lever and Voldemort heard a whistling noise. He looked up to see something very, very large and metal falling rapidly above him.

"I'll get you Potter!" he sneered…right before going SPLAT onto the highway.

Professor Coyote walked over to his students and smiled widely, holding up a sign that said 'GOOD JOB'.

"Thanks professor," Harry grinned. "We couldn't have done it without you and ACME."

The professor nodded and gave Luna an expectant look, anxious to have something he had coveted for decades – and something she had promised him.

Luna opened her mouth and let out a loud "BEEP-BEEP" that echoed through the canyon. Mere moments later, leaving dust in its wake, the Road Runner appeared next to the witch and she stroked his feathers. "Thank you, Mr. Road Runner," she whispered as she gently plucked several tail feathers and extended her hand. He had agreed to work with Wile E. Coyote and them in order to kill the most evil wizard in the world and, as per the agreement, agreed to give Coyote several feathers.

Professor Coyote hopped in excitement as he took the feathers and smelled them lovingly. Then, he disappeared.

"Where do you think he went?" Harry asked.

"BEEP-BEEP" the Road Runner replied.

Ron frowned. "What'd he say?"

Luna continued to stroke the bird. "Apparently our professor is a bit of an S&M fanatic and wanted the feathers for some sex toy. Of course, so is the Road Runner so that's why he always tortured Professor Coyote by never letting him catch him – they're both fond of foreplay."

* * *

A/N:  
I'm sorry. I just ruined your childhood memories :p

Thanks for reading!


	15. Professor King Leonidas300

**Professor King Leonidas (300)**

A/N:  
A nice, long, juicy update for my most loyal and lovely readers!

Note: The format of this story will make more sense if you've seen the movie _300_, just fyi ;)

Also: "Aru" is my idea of how to write out the 300 Spartan cheer that they love doing. That's what *I* think it sounds like, but I'm not sure if I'm right…

* * *

_Many moons into the future_

"Few knew of the professor's origins – even fewer believed the tales to be true."

A gruff English voice broke the silence, drifting past the crackling fireplace and into the ears of dozens of witches and wizards. He stood with one leg resting on a rock and his face was haggard, as if he had walked many miles in one day. A red cloak rustled gently in the wind and he clenched the hilt of his sword at his side, as if he were seeing something they could not. He blinked his single eye – the other was wrapped under a white cloth – and continued to speak.

"But the tale I tell is no myth. It is one of tyranny and the fight to save Hogwarts."

* * *

_Many moons in the past_

Their new professor loomed over the first row of students, his stance wide and his presence intimidating. The soft candlelight in the Hogwarts classroom illuminated his bronzed skin, darkened by many days out in the sun. The flickering lights cast shadows over the curves of his body, darkening the hard lines of his sculpted chest. An unknown wind followed him constantly, allowing his blood-red cloak to billow behind him. He looked upon the classroom of Gryffindors and Slytherins with keen brown eyes that seemed to take in every detail with merciless accuracy. Lush lips could barely be seen past his thick black mustache and beard, but every once in a while they twitched into a semblance of a smile.

Down the hallway the sound of frantic footsteps could be heard. The professor raised his head, waiting expectantly, and took in the sight of a small first year boy panting heavily and glancing about wildly.

"I-is this Trans-transfiguration?" he stuttered nervously.

The professor stalked towards him, eyeing him with a perturbed expression. He opened his mouth to speak, and his voice was deep and extremely manly.

**"THIS. IS. DADA!" **

The little first year nearly fell backwards from the explosion of noise. Also, a tiny puddle appeared at his feet.

"Not Transfiguration," the professor added with a kind smile. "Transfiguration is down the hall and on the next floor up."

The boy just shook his head quickly and scampered off, like a field mouse racing from a hunting hawk.

Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley just looked at each other apprehensively. "Er, well, I 'spose Dumbledore could have done worst than hire an accidental-time-traveled Spartan king who's never used magic," Harry shrugged.

Ron and Hermione shared a look and shrugged also. "True," they responded in unison.

* * *

___Many moons into the future_

The warrior with one-eye smiled as he continued to recount his tale.

"The months passed quickly and students, especially the Gryffindors warmed up to Professor King Leonidas quickly. Although he had a streak of violent tendencies he was good and fair and loyal, the sort of good man that would mention missing the wife that he lost when he fell into a portal and time traveled to our lands.

"Likewise, the professor loved the fearless and brave Gryffindors and personally took it upon himself to give them special D.A.-type lessons after hours." The speaker grinned just then, a sure sign that he considered himself part of this elite group.

* * *

_Many moons in the past_

Shortly before the Christmas vacation, Professor King Leonidas (they had asked if 'Professor Leonidas' would work, but he wanted his whole name so they went along with it, on account of him being so big and scary) was teaching some offensive spells that he had found in a book.

Or, well, spells that Hermione had found in a book. Once it became apparent that the professor could only read Ancient Greek she began helping him with lesson plans – partly for extra credit, partly because she liked teaching, and partly because she enjoyed the sense of control that came with planning. The professor had heartily welcomed her help, however, and claimed her to be of the same spirit of his wife, Queen Gorgo – a strong Spartan woman who was fearless and possessed a keen intelligence.

Needless to say, that line coming out of the handsome professor's mouth had Hermione blushing for a week.

Professor King Leonidas stood at the center of the room with his tough calloused hands held behind his back. As usual, his spear and golden shield were laid in arm's reach, on the professor's desk. "Now, I want each student to pair up and begin performing the popcorn spell and the shielding spell."

"Don't you mean the _ballooness maximus_spell?" Draco interjected helpfully – although, because it was Draco, it came out sounding rather snotty. Typically Draco would be the first one to hate a muggle professor but with his father in Azkaban he was unconsciously looking for a father figure.

The professor scowled and spoke back in a gruff voice, thinking that Draco was being a smartass. "I've seen what the spell can do. It makes humans have sacs of flesh pop upon their skin and it sounds like popcorn popping." The ancient Spartan had become a fan of certain recent food trends, such as corn and açaí berries that refreshed his skin. "And if I want to call it the bloody popcorn spell then I bloody well will!"

Draco shrank back, unable to hold his own against Spartan, and began feeling like an idiot.

Moments later he was paired up with Crabbe and trying not to perform the spell too harshly because his idiot friend sucked at shielding spells and Draco didn't fancy seeing Crabbe's shirt pop off from his skin boiling.

This made him distracted and thus made his hand gesture in the wrong direction – right at the professor's back.

However, Professor King Leonidas was a warrior who remained constantly vigilant and he felt the change in air flow when Draco Malfoy moved his wand slightly to the right. As the words dripped out of Malfoy's mouth, Professor King Leonidas swiftly reached for his golden shield and held it aloft. The spell hit with an impact that would have left a lesser man flying across the room, but the professor merely grunted and held his composure.

Draco's eyes bulged as he saw the professor deflect the spell – and he screamed when the spell bounced off directly at him. He turned his back and tried to run…but it was of no use.

"Ahh!" Draco let out a mournful scream as he fell to the floor, convulsing violently and twisting madly. Great popping sounds could be heard echoing through the room and all turned to witness Draco's shirt rip off as his back bubbled and blistered. When it was all done, he got shakily to his feet, but could barely raise his head due to the deformity of his back.

"Look at Quasimodo," Ron snickered, before receiving a wicked elbow from Hermione.

Eyes watering and mumbled curses drifting from his lips, Draco ran – and ran rather awkwardly due to his new hunchback – out of the room.

* * *

___Many moons into the future_

Their speaker paused and each person listening to him leaned forward, an unconscious plead for continuation.

"Over the Christmas break, Professor King Leonidas got fed up with teaching magic. Guilt churned within his soul for what had happened to young Draco. The poor boy's disfiguration could not be healed and it was thought that Leonidas' shield had made the spell more powerful upon reflection. Regardless, Draco was a hunchback and Leonidas just wanted to get back to basics."

The man's eyes flickered over each of them and he spoke each word like gunfire – short staccato sounds that shot into his audience.

"Swords."

"Daggers."

"Spears."

"Shields."

"And 500 sit-ups each day." The speaker winced as he involuntarily clutched his own abs, perhaps remembering the pain of getting in shape for the first time.

"By May the professor's students were becoming adept in weaponry and it was a good thing, because darkness fell upon them all."

Only the crackling of the fire could be heard. The audience had heard this story before but it was one that never grew old.

The speaker nodded. "Aye, Voldemort descended upon Hogwarts with thousands of men, creatures of myth, and mangy beasts.

"With Dumbledore murdered by the cowardly Snape, the Dark Lord thought Hogwarts was his for the taking. After all, who would presume 300 students and teachers would be able to stand against Voldemort and his great army?"

The grizzled man laughed softly in jest. "But he did not count on the impact of the Spartan professor."

* * *

_Many moons in the past_

"Students! Students!" Professor McGonagall called out frantically for order to resume in the Great Hall. Finally she did a temporary silencing spell to catch their attention. Once they were staring at her, she cleared her throat and began to speak.

"The castle is under attack!" Many students shivered at the news but none spoke just yet, thanks to her spell. "The Headmaster has been murdered and now Voldemort wishes to take the castle. Now, listen closely because we plan on sending each of you out through the secret passageways. From there we will have portkeys taking you to a safe location."

Harry Potter, free of her spell, spoke up angrily. "We can't leave Hogwarts! We can't surrender!"

Other students cheered, as did several of the professors.

"You are all just children! And there are thousands of them! We'll all be slaughtered!" Professor McGonagall's Scottish brogue was in full effect as her anxiety heightened.

"It would be dishonorable to run!" Harry shouted, thinking of his DADA professor.

"Honor is better than death!" Professor McGonagall countered angrily.

"No retreat, no surrender. That is Spartan law. And by Spartan law we will stand and fight, and die," Harry declared bravely, catching the eye of each person in the room.

"B-but, Potter!" Professor McGonagall said in confusion. "We're not in Sparta!"

"You heard them, Minerva," Professor King Leonidas said as he slid from his chair and looked at her in the eyes. "They wish to fight. Where I come from our boys begin fighting at the age of seven. They're ready!"

"B-but," Professor McGonagall stuttered.

"Are you ready to defend Hogwarts from the tyranny of Voldemort?" Harry Potter shouted.

"ARU! ARU!" The student body shouted in favorable response – even the Slytherins. They may be cunning bastards but they weren't cowards or evil, after all.

* * *

___Many moons into the future_

"And so our professor became the top general and Harry Potter his _taxiarchos_, and they ordered an impressive magical shield to be arranged around the castle. Alas, Voldemort and his minions broke through the shield at the point of the bridge, and hundreds began marching on that thin stretch of stone across the deep valley below."

The one-eyed man spoke further, each breath of air rustling the wildness of his mustache and beard. "Some doubted that we could hold that bridge. For if Voldemort's forces were to break through and swarm across, all would be lost; there is no way we could hope to counter those thousands against our 300."

The man smiled in memory, and it was a deadly smile. "Voldemort underestimated us that day and the next."

* * *

_Many moons in the past_

As an end-of-year present, Professor King Leonidas had procured shields and a sharp weapon for each student. Today, they got their gifts early.

The bridge was thirty feet in width and allowed the Hogwartians to expertly protect the entrance to the castle. They moved in unison, after months of training with the professor, and wielded their weapons with ease.

First Voldemort sent his werewolves and vampires, mutated beasts that were neither completely human nor animal. Jaws snapped in the night, creating the musical cadence that the 300 warriors moved their bodies to in rhythm. Silver-tipped spears swirled, planting in the hearts of the wolves, while swords whistled before sinking into undead necks.

Harry Potter, shirtless, the lines of his sculpted abdomen shadowed under the bright moonlight, decapitated a vampire fiercely as his dagger expertly stabbed a werewolf in the heart. Blood sprayed in front of him, splattering onto his clothes eagerly, as if even his enemies' bodies understand that Harry Potter owned each part of them as soon as he stepped onto the bridge.

Nearby, Professor King Leonidas laughed in the face of death – a vampire, to be exact – before ripping the beast's head right off its neck. He rolled the head like an expert bowler and grinned in satisfaction as the enemies ahead tripped and fell to the ground. A moment later he was upon the horde, slicing with relish.

Hermione Granger, as powerful in the ways of the warrior as she was in books, wielded twin daggers made of silver that were six inches in length. A ferocious battle-cry tore from her throat as she stabbed both knives into a werewolf's neck, slid them in opposite directions, and grinned satisfactorily as the head fell to the ground.

Metal against metal screeched like a banshee in the night, and Ron Weasley kicked out with his right leg, grunting as the vampire warrior fell back before he slid the metal in the creature's abdomen and pulled upwards before beheading him. Quick as fire ants, three more vampires leapt upon him, and Ron howled in warning before making quick work of the three of them, taking only a moment thereafter to wipe the vampires' splattered blood off his forehead.

Deep in the bloodlust, Neville Longbottom moved quickly through the crowd with his spear, stabbing his enemies mercilessly with one hand while knocking them out with his golden shield. A Quidditch-beater of a vampire raised his hand against the wizard but Neville spun his heavy shield so quickly that the creature's hand flew off. As his cry of pain shattered the air, Neville put the beast out of its misery with another blow to the throat.

* * *

___Many moons into the future_

The man sighed. "Aye, our first two days we showed Voldemort and his army the strength of free men and women, and his warriors wet themselves in our presence. Alas, it was not meant to last forever."

A tense silence followed his statement and the man looked up into the crowd. "You see, not all Hogwartians were out that night. No, one had not been permitted to fight…even when he requested it of Professor King Leonidas."

* * *

_Many moons in the past_

Draco Malfoy watched Voldemort's hordes retreat as the third morning welcomed them with its soft orange skies. He stood on the lawn of the Hogwarts estate, watching jealously as the warriors began to move backwards from the bridge and dress the wounds of the injured. He had desperately wanted to fight but Professor McGonagall had said he would be at greater risk than the other students. Professor King Leonidas had been busy at the time but now he was alone for the moment – and Draco went to make his move.

"Professor King Leonidas," Draco began, his eyes downcast. "I am formally asking to join in the fighting." For good measure he held up his own spear and shield.

The professor turned to him with critical eyes, assessing each part of his poor, wretched body. His hunchback was still there and it was painful to even move, but when he shuffled his feet he could still get around the castle – slowly, but he was able to do it.

Past them, in the distance, Harry Potter's voice rang out. "Hogwartians! Ready your breakfast and eat hearty, for tonight we dine in Hell!"

"I see," Professor King Leonidas murmured, Draco forcing himself to concentrate on his DADA professor and not Harry Potter's maniacal ways. "Tell me Draco, how high can you raise your shield?"

Breaking out into a nervous sweat, Draco raised it as high as he could – just slightly over his head.

Professor King Leonidas shook his head. "I am sorry, Draco, but you cannot be of use to use. Our battle formations require us to work together as a single, cohesive unit. With you unable to fit into that formation, you would leave us all at risk."

"B-but, I want to fight!" Draco shouted as rejection burned mercilessly into his heart.

The professor gave him a kind smile. "I am sorry Draco, but I cannot accept you." With that he turned and walked back towards the _real_warriors.

Hot tears of embarrassment stung his eyes, and Draco rushed into the castle, lest anyone see his weakness. All he wanted to do was fight! How _dare_ Leonidas reject him? He was just as helpful as any other! Besides, it was the _professor's_fault that he even looked like this!

Anger filled him like black oil, slicking his sly Slytherin mind; his thoughts turning darker and flowing freely.

Yes…if Leonidas did not want him…he would find someone who did…

Voldemort.

* * *

___Many moons into the future_

The man ran his hands carelessly through his dark beard, ignoring the sting of his heart. "Young Draco, scorned, met with the Dark Lord and offered to show him a secret passage into the castle. Voldemort was eager to take Draco up on his offer and promised Draco his darkest desires."

* * *

_Many moons in the past_

Lord Voldemort sat on his golden throne, looking calmly down at Draco Malfoy, the disfigured beast that had offered to show him a secret passageway into Hogwarts. He smiled thinly and gestured towards the gyrating females that he had picked up in his travels. He had no preference for sexual activities, but he knew a harem of whores would keep his warriors fit and happy.

"You can have all of this, Draco."

Draco glanced at the naked bodies that were ill-formed in different ways from his, but deformed all the same. Women licked and kissed and touched one another, their moans forming a symphony of pleasure that reverberated through his most tender of organs.

"Just join me," Voldemort smiled.

Falling to his feet, Draco pledged his loyalty – as his father had long ago – and told Voldemort how to get inside the castle.

* * *

_Many moons in the future_

"The old ones say we Hogwartians have descended from Merlin himself," their storyteller said with a grim smile. "It is true that the students of Witchcraft and Wizardry are among the strongest of the world, and it was put to the test during the three-day assault on Hogwarts."

His face hardened. "Even more so after the traitor Draco showed Voldemort's forces the way through the Shrieking Shack and into the castle.

"Swarmed on both sides, the mighty 300 began to get overwhelmed by Voldemort's forces. Dozens upon dozens died before Voldemort ordered a brief reprieve and asked to parley with Harry Potter."

* * *

_Many moons in the past_

Carried out by the mountain giants, Voldemort smiled victoriously from his golden throne. Once the mercenary giants set his throne done, Voldemort crossed his legs and gestured towards Harry Potter.

"Harry Potter!" Voldemort called in a bored tone.

Harry stepped out from his army of men, after a brief – but knowing – look with Professor King Leonidas. "Voldemort," he greeted amiably. "Are you here to negotiate your truce with us?"

It took a moment for the words to sink in, but once they did, Voldemort laughed riotously. "My dear boy, we have you outnumbered and cornered!" he chuckled.

With his daggere, Harry gestured at the dead bodies of Voldemort's forces surrounding them and the make-shift wall they made out of their opponent's bodies. "A brief relapse. I assure you, you will lose."

"Harry, Harry," Voldemort sighed, as if it pained him terribly that the Hogwartians would not listen to reason. "You have proven your worth these past two days. In fact, I admire you and your men."

"Hey!" Hermione Granger called out irritably.

"And women," Voldemort corrected with a chilly smile. "I regret the loss of spilt magical blood. In fact, I come to you to ask for your allegiance. I will make you a king, Harry. Together with our forces we can take over the Muggle world and rule as our race was meant to."

Harry did not move and Voldemort continued. "Discard your weapon and come bow before me, and your people will be free to live. I am a most generous god."

A moment passed, and then two…and then Harry surprised them by taking off his helmet and tossing it to Ginny Weasley. Next came his dagger and sword. Each item fell to the ground with a loud thud and both forces of good and evil stared in wonder as Harry took a step forward.

"Excellent. A wise decision," Voldemort murmured as he set his wand back on his throne armrest and leaned forward in anticipation.

Harry walked further, only several meters from Voldemort now, and began to lower himself to the ground. He knelt, his hands brushing against the ground, but he did not bow his head. He spoke, his voice gravelly from days without rest and little to drink or eat.

"I am not known for making wise decisions, Voldemort," Harry admitted.

His adversary looked up sharply in surprise.

"Indeed, I have made many mistakes." Harry's face hardened. "I should have killed Quirrell. I should have killed the traitor Peter Pettigrew. I should have killed your Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries. I should have helped Dumbledore kill _you_that same night."

Voldemort's fists were balled in rage. "This is preposterous!" he snarled angrily at Harry's impudence.

A sly smile slid over Harry's face as his fingers found something in the grass. "No," he contradicted calmly as he stood up, a newly found spear in his grasp.

**"THIS. IS. HOGWARTS!"**With that might roar, Harry hurled the spear through the air, plunging it into Voldemort's heart with a thick, moist sound that brought out a battle cry in each Hogwartian.

"ARU! ARU!"

* * *

___Many moons into the future_

Neville Longbottom recounted the sight of the spear flying through the air and the whistling it emitted as it raced towards his target. He spoke of the chaos that engulfed Voldemort's forces as they, upon realizing their master was dead, raced for a speedy retreat. Some were slaughtered as they left, while others were still out there, waiting for a new master of evil to recruit them.

Staring at the young witches and wizards assembled before him, the one-eyed warrior gestured wildly as he told his tale. Each person was enraptured by his voice, and his story.

"And _that_is why Defense Against the Dark Arts now has a physical education component, children, because sometimes it takes more than magic to take down a dark lord – sometimes it takes a spear to the heart." Neville finished his speech to an explosion of applause.

"Without further ado," Neville continued, "I would like to introduce you to your DADA PE professor. While I will teach the spell-side of things, he will be teaching you the necessary requirements of physical battle. Class, please welcome Professor King Leonidas!"

* * *

A/N:

Here I am, supposed to be studying for my GRE exam on Friday and instead I'm writing. Alas! This was a fun plot bunny that could not be stopped so I had to write it down.

Also, did anyone guess the narrator was Neville? ;)

Thank you for reading! And reviewing!

References:  
.com/character/ch0002519/  
.org/wiki/Military_rank#Greek_ranks


	16. Professor Sue Sylvester Glee

**Professor Sue Sylvester (Glee)**

**A/N:**

This chapter is for Omegaprimewho gave me the super awesome prompt for a truly wicked DADA prof ;)

And thanks to Dmitri who, via his fic The new DADA teacher   
inspired me to write a want ad ;)

For those unfamiliar with this Glee character, just know that Sue Sylvester is the main antagonist of the series, loves track suits, and cheerleading; and hates the Glee Club (the cheerleaders' rivals for school funding). But since she's so funny, she's the type of villain you love to hate ;)

As always, I cut and twist canon to suit my purposes :)

* * *

**WANTED:**  
A Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor

_Desired Qualities: _Knowledge of defense spells, ability to manage youth ages 11-17, and bravery in the face of accepting a cursed position.  
_Pay: _Better than your last job. (_really_, we're willing to pay whatever you need!)  
_Benefits: _A room in a castle, board, and an excellent life insurance policy!  
_Undesired Qualities: _Dark Lords, people with a 'fame' complex, dark creatures (werewolves), and polyjuiced personas.

Sue Sylvester reclined in her office chair, with her feet propped up on her desk as she read the Help Wanted ads of the Cleveland wizarding newspaper The Hellmouth Times. She snapped her bubblegum twice and reread the Hogwarts ad.

Hmm. This may be something she needed to look into. After all, Schuester was getting on her last nerves and her Cheerios were sucking at life this year. She wanted a change and maybe Hogwarts was the place for her to go.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat in the second row of desks on the first day of their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. They, and their classmates, watched in silence as their new professor stalked into the room. She pulled a wand out of her blue track suit pocket and waved it threateningly into the air. A sadistic smile lit up her face as she inspected each of them like zoo animals. She was in her forties with cropped blond hair and eyes that sparkled with energy. For whatever reason she had forgone the traditional teaching robes and instead wore blue track pants and jacket with a yellow stripe running down the sides. She was certainly peculiar looking.

"Alright, listen up you snot-nosed brats. I come from Lima, Ohio which has its share of street cred, and I worked at a school full of muggles there, called William McKinley High School," Professor Sylvester stated, her voice piecing their ears.

"Muggles, professor? Why?" Hermione inquired curiously.

The professor snickered. "Do you realize how funny it is to secretly be a witch and be able to do loads of spells and curses on unsuspecting stupid muggle idiots? It was hilarious!"

The Slytherins laughed and leaned forward in their seats while the Gryffindors leaned back in surprise at the professor's hostility.

"Now, time to get learning, brats! First up, let's practice your shielding spells." Professor Sylvester glanced around the room until she spotted her target. "Hey, you, fatty!" she shouted as she pointed to Neville Longbottom.

"M-me?" Neville stuttered.

"Hey, that's not nice!" Hermione chided angrily.

"Get ready to shield!" Professor Sylvester delivered a Bat-Bogey Hex at Neville who (of course) was unable to say _Protego_quickly enough to ward off the jinx. Sure enough Neville's bogies flew out of his nose, grew wings, and began attacking him.

"Ah!" Neville shouted as he attempted to hide under his desk.

Professor Sylvester sighed happily to herself. "Merlin, I love my job."

There was no doubt about it – Sue Sylvester was a go-getter. Within two weeks of being on the job she had formed four cheerleading squads, one for each House that would perform during Quidditch meets. Unfortunately, Albus Dumbledore was being cheap.

"Dumbledore," Sylvester sneered after dinner in the Great Hall once night. "I have over twenty girls on my squads and they need cheerleading uniforms stat. Now you're going to allot me some funds ASAP so we can liven up the next damn boring Quidditch game." Sue had never liked Quidditch as a child when she attended the Salem Academy; however she lived for cheerleading. Best of all, wizarding cheerleading was far better than standard muggle cheerleading – lifts and somersaults were so much more exciting with a _wingardium leviosa_ spell, after all!

"Well now Sue," Dumbledore said kindly, his blue eyes twinkling beneath his crescent-shaped eyeglasses. "Cheerleading wasn't in our original budget. I'm afraid the D.A. student club has been allotted the extra funding for their defense against the dark arts activities."

"What?" Sylvester hissed. "That's outrageous! As if they really need to be running around doing that when my girls are making a difference at this school!"

"Sue, there _is_a Dark Lord currently running around and dare say it would be better for our students to be trained in defense rather than gymnastics," Dumbledore countered gently.

Sylvester huffed and stalked off, only to find herself running into Snape past the doorway.

"Watch where you're going," she muttered.

"Ah, Professor Sylvester. I see you are as charming as ever," Snape greeted her in a droll voice. She started to leave but he stopped her. "I overheard your situation with your cheerleading team."

"And?" she asked snarkily.

"And I thought you should know that the D.A. is Harry Potter's little group. If you possibly need any help…coercing…Mr. Potter to disband his organization then I would be pleased to offer my services," Snape offered, his voice effectively hiding any emotion.

"Really?" Sylvester peered at him. "Hmm. And what would I owe you for?"

Snape chuckled, a low and dark sound. "It is already an enjoyable sight to see you terrorize the little brats in the halls and I think you would be most effective at making Potter's life a living hell. That is all I am interested in."

After one more hard look, Sylvester thrust her hand out. "Deal."

Snape shook the woman's hand, his lips twitching into a slight smile. "Deal."

Throughout the next few months Sylvester and Snape presented a formidable presence in Hogwarts' halls; a menace to every student who was not a) a cheerleader or b) a Slytherin; the luckiest students of all were certainly the Slytherin Cheerleading Squad. Those who suffered the most were members of the D.A. – especially Harry Potter.

It so happened one night that Dumbledore was out of the country on urgent business (as he called it – others just knew it as his annual Thailand sex-shop vacation). That evening a great explosion sounded in the Great Hall and smoke spilled into the room. When students and staff alike had completed their coughing fits, they looked up to see none other than Lord Voldemort and his follower Bellatrix Lestrange standing next to the staff table.

Gasps and shocked cries circulated the room and Lord Voldemort lent each person present a thin and chilling smile. "BEHOLD! I am Lord Voldemort!"

"The Darkest Lord of them all!" crowed Bellatrix gleefully as she clapped her hands in excitement.

"I command that you give me the boy Harry Potter! Do so and I will let you all live! Do not, and suffer many painful deaths!" sneered Voldemort.

Harry Potter bravely stood to his feet, his wand extended. "Here I am—" he began to snarl but a clipped feminine voice stopped him.

"What the heck do you think you're doing, Boy Wonder?" Sylvester grimaced as she stood to her feet, her wand at the ready.

"I won't let Voldemort hurt my friends! I won't!" Harry cried out feverishly.

Professor Sylvester rolled her eyes. "Oh Merlin, you're such a drama whore, Potter. Sit your behind down and let the adults take care of this. You're my personal punching bag and I'm not giving you up to snake eyes over here."

Harry Potter, having never been called a 'drama whore' once in his life, sat back down mostly out of shock.

Voldemort whirled around, his black robes billowing in appropriate dramatic fashion. "What's this? The newest professor thinks to stand against me?" he derided. Next to him, Bellatrix released a bout of uproarious laughter at the mere thought.

"Shut it, Riddle," Sylvester deadpanned. "My god, I used to think Potter was a drama whore but you beat the crew. It's like you were the star of Glee Club growing up at Hogwarts."

Voldemort blanched at her words. "Er…actually…"

"My Lord!" Bellatrix cried out skeptically. "Please say such a thing is not true!"

His thin shoulders shrugged, and then a snarl wove its way onto his face. "I _was_until that filthy mudblood upstaged me and stole my solo!" Voldemort fumed.

"Tom Riddle, stop being such a pansy-ass crybaby and get over the fact that your singing sucked," Sylvester snapped viciously. "I swear, your killing spree has just been a big 'ol tantrum."

"WHAT? How _dare_ you!"

"Wha-wha," Sylvester sing-songed as her hand opened and shut like a mouth. Then she began speaking in a baby-voice. "My mummy died when I was a widdle baby and my daddy was just her drugged up love slave. I grew up in an orphanage where nobody liked me because I was so creepy. If only I got more hugs growing up. Wha-whaaa."

Professor Sylvester's face hardened and her eyes glowed with sheer annoyance. "Suck it up, Riddle! Spank your inner child and get over it!"

"How…dare…you," Voldemort seethed as he aimed his wand at her. "_AVADA KEDAVA!_"

A blast of green light jettisoned from his wand and the Great Hall was engulfed in screams. The spell hit Professor Sylvester and then, peculiarly enough, rebounded off her yellow and orange track suit and hit Voldemort. Without even time for a cry of terror, the Dark Lord fell dead onto the stage of the Great Hall in Hogwarts.

"Professor Sylvester! You did it!" cheered Harry Potter; others quickly joined him.

Bellatrix Lestrange apparated out of there like a bat out of hell.

Sue Sylvester, reeling from the shock of power she felt when her specially constructed track suits rebounded Voldemort's curse, stared down at Voldemort's body in shock. The Dark Lord was dead. Thanks to her. Hmmm. That was interesting, wasn't it? Sue was the defeater of the darkest wizard to hit the world in centuries. Now what should she do with her newfound status, fame, and glory?

A malevolent smile grew on her face as that seed of thought took root. Yes, she would finally have her cheerleading team and get rid of the D.A. – and then she would head back to McKinley High…

Sue Sylvester opened her mouth and bellowed the words on the tip of her tongue. **"In the place of a Dark Lord you would have a Queen! Not dark but beautiful and terrible as the Morn! Treacherous as the Seas! Stronger than the foundations of the Earth! All shall love me and despair!"**

"Er, professor?" Hermione called out nervously. "Aren't you switching fandoms? Isn't that line from The Lord of the Rings?"

Sue Sylvester, her presence glowing with power, turned her dark eyes onto Hermione Granger. Her lips curled in disgust. "For talking back to me…_"CRUCIO_!"

* * *

**A/N:**

LOL. For me, Sue being a wizarding world witch answers a _lot_of questions. Plus, there has to be a better reason for her tracksuits. And Voldemort becoming committed to a life of wiping out mudbloods because he lost out on a solo fits perfectly within the 'Glee' verse ;)

As for the Galadriel line? Sigh, I just love that line and thought it would be perfect for Sue ;)

Also, I can totally see Snape/Sue being a glorious pairing. I hinted at a connection but a real hint at romance just didn't work in this ficlet. However, if anyone could take up that idea and write it, I would love you forever ;D

…I don't know what it is, but my Muse has been good to me lately, getting me to write over 50k words in the last 2 weeks. *pats Musie on the head* yay for updating/finishing/starting new stories! :)

Thanks for reading!

_References_:  
***"Alright, listen up you snot-nosed brats. I come from Lima, Ohio which has its share of street cred—Seriously, I'm from Ohio and had to do some business in Lima last year. Once on Glee they jokingly remarked about a crack house. On some real talk? That is _so_ not a joke!  
***"Sue, there _is_ a Dark Lord currently running around and dare say it would be better for our students to be trained in defense rather than gymnastics," Dumbledore countered gently.- When I wrote this I could just imagine the sarcastic snort coming out of Greywizard when he read this line. After all, we all know that Dumbles would rather keep his kids in the dark so they made excellent targets for certain dark lords! ;)


	17. Professor Honey Badger ft Randall

**Professor Honey Badger (ft. Randall)**

Professor Honey Badger (ft. Randall)

**A/N:**

Crossover: If you haven't already, you _need_ to watch the major internet meme and YouTube video The Nasty Crazyass Honey Badger. It is narrated by Randall, an effeminate male who has a knack for eloquently describing the hijinks of the "Most Fearless Animal on Earth", as named by the Guinness Book of World Records. The video is HILARIOUS and it inspired me to update…

Disclaimer: I borrow heavily from the video's dialogue because it is simply too funny. I do not own Randall, the Honey Badger, or Harry Potter.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat expectantly in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. It was the first day of class and all they knew was that the new professor was called "Professor H.B." No one had a clue as to what the initials stood for or what their professor looked like. All they knew was that Dumbledore had been especially desperate this year – apparently the new professor had just been hired the day before classes began.

Ron eyed the grandfather clock that stood against the wall. It read a quarter past three. "Bit late, isn't he?" A toothy grin appeared on his face. "Think this means we won't have class?"

Draco Malfoy, sitting on the other side of the room, scoffed loudly. "I'm not surprised that Dumbledore's latest fruit basket of a professor is late. Wonder what sort of idiot he hired this time?"

_"Honey Badger don't give a fuck if he's late. He does what he wants."_

Everyone jumped in their seats. Several students even had their wands in their hands.

Glancing around the room and seeing no one that could have spoken, Harry shared a confused look with his friends. The voice was mysterious, male, and outrageously effeminate.

"Uh, hello?" Harry called out. Perhaps the newest professor was a ghost? Except…what was a honey badger?

_"Why hello,"_ purred the effeminate voice. It seemed to travel out of the air above their heads, but Harry couldn't see anyone.

"Are you the professor?" Harry continued.

A loud sigh followed Harry's words. _"No, I'm not. Which is a shame because you, kid, are fucking adorable. No, I'm just his narrator,"_ the voice pouted.

"His narrator?"

_"Duh."_ Harry could have sworn he heard the narrator roll his eyes. _"Honey badger can't speak. Nor does he give a shit about talking to some humans."_

Just then the door banged open. Still edgy, the Hogwarts students jumped again and looked backwards. There, seemingly strutting into the classroom was a small four-legged animal. It had a long, black body with a silver stripe on its back. Claws were visible on its paws and it appeared to smile, showcasing tiny dagger-like teeth. It growled quietly and climbed onto the teacher's desk.

"Wha—" Hermione gasped.

_"This is the honey badger. He's your new professor. He's pretty badass,"_ the Narrator drawled.

"Dumbledore hired…an ANIMAL? Merlin's white beard!" Draco shouted, aghast.

Honey Badger turned its head and snarled in Draco's direction.

_"Oh, shit, no you didn't!"_ the Narrator trilled, as if he were about to snap his fingers and call for a dance-off next.

Suddenly Honey Badger jumped off the desk and ran over to Draco, moving much quicker than could be predicted. Draco let out a terrifying scream as Honey Badger bit viciously into Draco's wand-arm. Jumping up, Draco tried to shake Honey Badger off, but the animal had an iron grip. Blood trailed against Draco's pale English skin.

"Help me!" Draco called up into the air as his friends tried to dislodge the irate professor.

_"Honey Badger don't give a shit. It just takes what it wants._"

Finally, sated with his vengeance, Honey Badger released the wizard and clambered back onto his desk.

Afraid to say anything else, the class was silent. Draco pressed his hand against his bleeding arm.

_"Honey Badger don't care what you have to say, but do you have any questions for him?"_ the Narrator asked in a bored tone.

Everyone shook their head.

"_Good. Now Honey Badger was bored so he took this job because he heard there was a fierce-ass snake running with an evil wizard, and he's a hungry little bastard. So who can lead Honey Badger to Voldemort?_" Was it just Harry, or did he hear the Narrator snicker in excitement?

Excluding Hermione and Ron, everyone pointed directly at Harry (apparently now awarded 'Most Likely to Know Where An Evil Wizard Would Live'). Seeing there was no way out of it, Harry's shoulders dropped in defeat. At this moment he was more afraid of Honey Badger than a dark wizard that had failed to kill him three different times.

"I can help you find him," Harry sighed.

***

The three of them, Harry, Honey Badger, and the disembodied voice of the effeminate Narrator, found Voldemort's lair the next day – you'd have thought it'd take him longer to find a dark lord, but the frightening presence of Honey Badger was an excellent motivator.

"Harry Potter! So I see you are stupid enough to approach me directly," Voldemort sneered.

_"Oooh, nasty. Look at his beady red eyes! Oh, he doesn't even have a nose – his face is all flat like a paper doll. And what is he wearing? Oh my god, is that a dress?"_ The Narrator burst into laughter. _"What the fuck kind of Dark Lord wears an ugly black dress?"_

Voldemort's heard lurched up and his eyes, which were indeed beady and red although no one would have ever said such a thing to his face, glanced around. "It's not a dress!" he sniped. "It's a robe!" Then he gave Harry a suspicious look. "Who else have you brought with you, Harry Potter?"

_"He brought Honey Badger, bitch."_

Voldemort's eyes narrowed in surprise. "Potter…did you just bring a badger with you?" Amused by the situation, Voldemort chuckled. Waving his fingers towards them both, Voldemort released his pet snake from her place next to him. "Nagini, do eat the boy's little friend. Once he's dead, I'll kill Potter."

_"Oh girrrrrl, it's on now,"_ the Narrator narrated as Honey Badger began to dance up towards the deadly snake.

Nagini lunged towards the badger, but Honey Badger veered away easily.

_"Honey Badger don't play. Yeah, look at him. That crazy fuck is walking backwards!"_

Again the snake attempted to snap her jaws onto her opponent, but Honey Badger moved quickly. Their dance continued until finally Nagini clamped her jaw around Honey Badgers midsection. She released Honey Badger quickly.

_"Oh little does the Honey Badger know, fyi, that he's been stung, he's been bitten by the snaaake,"_ the Narrator called. Strangely, he didn't seem very worried about it.

"One moment, Nagini," Voldemort called softly.

Poor Honey Badger fell to the ground on his back, his eyes closing as the poison coursed through his veins.

_"Look at that sleepy fuck,_ the Narrator observed.

"Now, Harry," Voldemort smiled wickedly as the young wizard's eyes grew in fear. "I bet you are regretting this decision."

Harry stared at the dead Honey Badger in surprise. He…call him crazy, but he really thought that crazy nastyass Honey Badger would be able to defeat Voldemort.

Maybe Harry was as nutters as Dumbledore was for hiring a bloody animal in the first place.

Suddenly, the Honey Badger twitched and Harry fought to maintain a straight expression, lest Voldemort noticed. Then, rolling over, the Honey Badger scurried over to the unsuspecting Nagini and bit viciously into her body, right past the head.

_"Look at this! Like nothing happened! That crazy nastyass Honey Badger just gets up and starts eating!"_

"NO!" Voldemort shouted as Honey Badger began gnawing on Nagini's thrashing (and dying) body.

_"Look, Honey Badger don't care bout your pet snake. Honey Badger don't give a shit. Nothing can stop this crazy fuck when he's hungry." _

Raising his wand, eyes aflame with anger, Voldemort shouted "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

"No!" Harry shouted, wand in his hand; but he knew it was all over. Honey Badger had miraculously survived Nagini's venom but there was no way he could survive the Killing Curse.

A jettison of green light smacked straight into Honey Badger…and Honey Badger just growled and itched where the light hit him. He didn't even look angry, just annoyed.

_"Notice the Honey Badger's loose yet thick skin. He's pretty badass and can handle just about anything, even some crazyass Killing Curse."_

Voldemort (and Harry) stared in bewilderment as Honey Badger pranced over to Voldemort.

_"Uh-oh, Honey Badger is gonna throw off the kid's gloves now. You fuck with Honey Badger and he'll fuck you up,"_ the Narrator sing-songed gleefully.

Moments later Honey Badger was ripping into Voldemort's neck with relish.

_"Oh, what a crazy fuck! Eww, nasty. He's just eating an evil wizard. That's just nasty!"_

Those beady red eyes of Voldemort's flickered, and then finally died.

"Wow," Harry whispered. "Honey Badger really does just take what it wants."

**A/N**

This one was extra silly, but I hope you crazy bitches enjoyed it ;)

My great appreciation to all who read & review.


	18. Professor Bruce Banner

**Professor Bruce Banner**

"Hey everybody," their new professor greeted with a soft smile. He stood at the front of the classroom next to the oak desk, looking out at the rows of Gryffindor and Slytherin students. "Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts. My name is Dr. Bruce Banner."

"Excuse me, professor?" Hermione interjected with a wave of her hand.

Dr. Banner looked down at the seating chart. "Yes…Hermione?"

"I haven't heard of anyone in the Wizarding World who has a doctorate. May I ask what you studied?" Hermione inquired.

"No, no, by all means, inquire," Dr. Banner said with a wave of his hands. "I am a nuclear physicist."

"A nuke-clear-what?" Draco asked.

"A nuclear physicist," Dr. Banner repeated with a slight smile.

"So you're not a wizard…?" Harry presumed.

"Eh." Dr. Banner shrugged. "No. I mean, I do know something about the scientific methods that wizards label as 'transfiguration'." He winced. "Actually I know quite a bit about that."

"Then why are you teaching this class?" Draco asked scornfully. "We're supposed to know how to perform the dark arts—er, spells against those dark, bad, evil arts," Draco added quickly. "Heh."

"Well I've been out of work for a while and looking for a new place to lie low from the govern—that is, looking for a new place to live, and Dumbledore needed a professor that didn't scare easily," Dr. Banner explained.

"That's probably good, considering everyone who's had this position has been cursed in some way," Harry informed him.

A shadow crossed Dr. Banner's face and his eyes darkened at Harry's words. "Trust me, I know something about curses," he said gruffly.

Hermione eyed the slight figure with his mousy brown hair and soft manners, wondering just exactly how he was supposed to help them.

"Erm, no offense professor," Hermione said in a voice that sounded skittish but determined. "But do you really think you're the best person for this position? After all, Voldemort is back and Death Eaters are running rampant – we really need to learn how to defend ourselves against the dark arts."

Pursing his lips, Dr. Banner shook his head. "That's fair, Hermione. I think—"

A great boom sounded and the adjoining wall exploded, sending debris through the classroom. The students shrieked and hid under their desks while Dr. Banner was thrown backwards, gasping as a giant chunk of brick hit his solar plexus.

"It has taken me years but I have finally figured out how to break Hogwarts' protection spells!" Voldemort's cruel, high voice declared gleefully.

"Voldemort!" Harry sneered, his wand in his hand.

Voldemort's red snake-like eyes bore into the Boy-Who-Lived. "Harry Potter. How was your summer vacation? Mine was just lovely, thank you for asking." He smiled, chilling everyone in the room – everyone, that is, but their professor who was busy heaving bricks off his body. "I had some delightful times with a group of muggles on a bridge."

"Expell—" Harry's throat closed as Voldemort performed a dark silencing spell on him.

"Tsk tsk, Harry. That won't do," Voldemort admonished gently. "I'll need my wand if I am going to make you pay for what you have done to me."

"Pay for what he's done to you?" Ron shouted, his face turning as red as his hair. "You're the one who murdered his parents!"

Voldemort's head cocked to the side as he examined Ron, much like an eagle observes a worm. "A Weasley. There are so many of you…perhaps we should change that." He raised his wand but a new voice interrupted him.

"I wouldn't do that if I was you." Dr. Banner, dirty from the dust of the collapsed wall, stood panting after he exerted most of his strength in throwing off those bricks.

"Who are you?" Voldemort sniffed. "Yet another one of Dumbledore's fools masquerading as a real professor?"

"Please," Dr. Banner snorted with a sarcastic smile. "With my degree I'm the only person here who actually is qualified to teach about dangerous materials and experiments. "

"You best watch your tongue, boy, or else I'll show you something truly dangerous," Voldemort cautioned.

"Like this?" Dr. Banner said with a smile, before his face seemed to melt and reform before their eyes, his body stretching and widening, bulging muscles ripping through his clothes, his skin darkening to a shade of green.

Eyes widening as he sought to understand what sort of dark wordless spell this man had performed, Voldemort knew he had to exterminate the man quickly before further complications arose. "_Avada Kedavra!_"

A jettison of green light shot out of Voldemort's wand and all the students cried out in terror. The man once known as Dr. Banner stared down at the light curiously. "Pretty," he commented in a deep voice that made the students think of mountains moving.

Then the light hit him, and all held their breath even as Voldemort had already begun his malicious cackle of glee. The green creature took a step backward from the impact and…giggled?

"Tickles." He gingerly rubbed the spot.

Flabbergasted, Voldemort shouted "How did you do that?" His expression turned angry and he raised his wand again. "You stupid _hulking _beast!"

A grimace washed across the Hulk's face and he took two large steps towards Voldemort. "Mean," he stated. Then he picked up Voldemort by the scruff of his neck and stared at him while he snapped Voldemort's wand with his pinky finger.

**"HULK SMASH!"**he shouted in a booming voice.

The Hulk flung Voldemort into the floor, picked him up, and turned to smash him into the other side of the floor. Then he carried on with this. Repeatedly.

When there was nothing more but a red slick of blood and white paste of pulverized bone, the Hulk grunted. "Puny wizard."

**A/N:**

Hey everyone! Many thanks for the reviews and for reading. I do apologize for the lack of regular updates, but this fic is an inspiration-only type, meaning I only update when I am feeling especially inspired. This chapter, of course, stemmed from my viewing of the new Avengers movie ;)

Hope you liked it! There are only 3 mysterious DADA professors left!


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